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#my vision is always 20/20 when I'm looking at him
starry-eyes-love · 20 hours
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Calm Me Down
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Main Masterlist Joel Miller Masterlist
The next chapter in the Marriage Dynamics series
Pairing | Husband Joel Miller x Wife F!Reader- AU, No Outbreak
Summary | You wake up having a panic attack, and Joel calms you down. This results in the two of you talking, calming each other’s fears, and finally working through your problems. You feel movement in your pregnancy for the first time while Joel silently talks to his unborn child, asking for a gift that he doesn’t know yet but will receive.
Work Count: 5.5K
Warnings | Series is 18+, Minor DNI
Age difference (implied), language, descriptions of anxiety/panic attack, flashbacks, marriage dynamics (these two finally communicate), hurt and comfort, tenderness and love, mentions of pregnancy, you feel baby movement for the first time, mild reference to past cheating (your father and Joel's ex-wife, not from Joel or you), mild references in the past to physical abuse by your father, references to berating your father did to you in the past.
A/N: Sorry for taking so long on this next part, but here you are. As a reminder, I no longer do tag lists. Make sure to turn on notifications for when I post new written pieces.
“Baby, look at me,” Joel said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him. Joel reached out instinctively and placed a steady hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it and feeling the soft swell of your stomach that was holding and caring for his child. He was trying to help ground you and reassure you that you were okay and that your baby would be alright, too.
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These moments come out of nowhere: the sheer panic, the sweaty palms, the narrowing vision. You don't know why, but suddenly, it feels like the whole world is crashing down around you, like you are falling fast off of a cliff, unable to save yourself from sudden death. Your heart races, and you're stuck believing the lies in your head. The lies that you know are not true.
“I'm not good enough. I can't do this. I'll never be more than what I am now: a failure. My husband doesn't love me.”
This feeling inside seizes you, holds you tight, and doesn't allow you to take a proper breath. And that's ok, you think. You don't need to breathe, not yet. But the feeling doesn't stop, and your body eventually screams for another breath. The thing is, though, you can't get any air in, so you panic once again. The cycle never ends. It keeps repeating until you're drowning in your sweat and anxiety. You're having a goddamn panic attack, one that you haven't had in many years. To say you're embarrassed doesn't even come close to describing your emotions. The word you require fails to come to you, so you settle for fear, embarrassment, and loneliness.
You've been way too stressed your entire pregnancy. You're a week shy of being 20 weeks along with your third baby and your fourth pregnancy.
Yeah, we won't talk about that pregnancy. The daughter that you lost at 22 weeks pregnant. To this day, you still don't like thinking about it.
Even though this is a different pregnancy, things seem to haven't gone how you wanted. You finally did tell Joel that you were pregnant at your doctor's appointment when you started spotting blood. You were scared of admitting pregnancy to him, especially when you two had barely talked since Halloween. You didn't know why; you just weren't getting along. It's funny how life does that sometimes, isn't it?
Even though your 20th-week ultrasound was just a few days away, you felt embarrassed that nothing seemed to go as planned this time. You hadn't told Joel you were pregnant technically until you were having bleeding problems. You weren't sexually active with your husband. There was no celebration of being pregnant, just awkward silence, mostly of which came from you. Joel attempted to speak with you, but you'd always clam up and not talk. If you were being honest, it wasn't until late at night on Christmas Eve that Joel and you started to talk and get along again. 
Now, you lay awake in bed, your mind racing, running wild with panic at all the scenarios that weren't even happening. But it felt like they were happening now, and you were scared. You were drowning in panic, unable to slow your mind down, wishing for anything to stop it. 
I'm not good enough. My husband doesn’t want this and doesn't want to be with me. I'm such a horrible wife for not telling him.
Your thoughts wouldn't stop. Your mind kept racing, and you felt like you were drowning. The walls were once again closing in around you, sucking you underneath the surface. You desperately needed a lifeline to grab onto, something to save you from yourself. That's when you felt your husband reach out to you and pull you tight against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, securing you to him while gently whispering, “Baby, come on now, breathe.”
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Earlier in the night, Joel had decided not to sleep with his shirt on, something he hadn’t done in a long time. After his shower, he noticed the way you were looking at him. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, you looked at him like you desperately needed something primal from him.
“What's that look for, baby?” He said, glancing over at you and raising just his eyebrow. He was taunting you, wanting you to voice all those dirty little things that he knew you were thinking. He could tell by the look on your face, the way you were breathing, and how you were slowly squeezing your thighs together that you were turned on and sexually aroused. Joel may not be able to give you penetrative sex yet, but dammit, he could eat his wife's pussy if she wanted it. And Joel secretly hoped that you wished to do that tonight.
“I-uh, I-'' you said, stuttering and stammering at the words. You couldn't voice it or say it out loud for some reason. You were never afraid of dirty talk in the bedroom. But considering it has been almost 20 weeks, nearly five months since the two of you have done anything sexual, you were a bit nervous. 
“Why don't you finish getting ready for bed, baby, then come over here, and I'll get ya all nice and relaxed for bed.”
“What did you have in mind?” You asked, hoping Joel would voice it for you.
“Oh, darlin’, you know what I have in mind,” he said, slowly sticking his tongue out and moving it up and down like he does when he licks at you fast when he goes down on you.
You quickly nodded your head and then ran into the bathroom. You needed a shower and desperately needed a shave. You spent the next 20 minutes making yourself feel more sexy and presentable. But when you entered the bedroom, you noticed all your work was in vain. Joel was lying down and loudly snoring already. Immediately, your heart sank at seeing him fast asleep.
Joel intended to give you, his wife, some much-needed affection and attention. But he underestimated how tired he was. When his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light and asleep within seconds. You, however, had laid there with your eyes open, overthinking stuff once again.
You loved being pregnant, but you hated the first part of pregnancy, where the anxiety was horrible. Your doctor said because your hormones change so much in the first stages of pregnancy, anxiety is common among women. And boy, did you ever have anxiety, especially this time around with being pregnant in your late 30s. 
Even though your hormones were already leveling out, you were still nervous about knowing if your baby was growing healthy inside of you. You knew that after your 20-week ultrasound appointment, you would calm down. But you just had to get there first. You were nervous about losing this pregnancy. You remember the pregnancy you had lost; that 20th-week ultrasound showed significant problems. If everything would show that you were ok, just like the two other pregnancies did with your boys, you knew you'd calm down. You kept telling yourself that everything would be ok. But that crippling anxiety kept sneaking up at you at the worst times and holding you tight, like tonight.
The longer the night continued, the more you wanted to reach out and have your husband hold you tight to help calm your fears. But he looked so peaceful lying there sleeping; you didn't want to wake him. You both were getting along again, and there was no more fighting between you. So you didn't know where this anxiousness was coming from tonight. Your body felt off, and you didn't know why.  You had tried to fall asleep, struggling with your mind to get any rest. At one point, you had dozed off a little bit, but you quickly woke up in a panic, sweating profusely. You were smack dab in the middle of yet another bad panic attack. You haven't had one of these episodes of panic for many years. Usually, stress or something larger would trigger them, but nothing unusual has happened recently. So you lay there silently, trying to will all of these bad feelings that you were having away. But no matter what you did, you could still feel your heart race and your chest constrict. It felt like you couldn't fully take a deep breath.  You were drowning fast in terror and panic, not knowing if you could get yourself out of it anymore. You didn't realize in your panicked state that your husband woke up. But then, all of a sudden, when your chest constricted the tightest, and you thought you were going to die from lack of oxygen, you felt Joel’s strong arms wrap around you. He gently pulled you to him, where your back met his chest. He let out a long exhale while slowly whispering, “Baby, come on, breathe.
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After Joel had laid down, he had fallen asleep suddenly, too suddenly for his liking. He wanted to cuddle you and give you much-needed attention and affection. Joel could see that you were stressed with work and raising the boys, and Joel's chaotic work schedule didn't help you. He recently hired a manager to work out in the field with Tommy so he could stay back in the office more and focus on the business side of things.  His contracting business was expanding, growing at a rapid rate where Joel didn’t need to be out in the field all the time working. He could take that much-needed break and focus his time and skills on the best ways of growing his company. 
Joel suddenly was jolted awake by something, but he was unsure of what.  When he opened his eyes, Joel saw your back as you were facing away from him. Joel thought maybe it was a bad dream that had woken him up.  Slowly, he ran his hand down his face, slightly shaking it and yawning to clear his head.  Upon looking over at you again, Joel saw that you were curled up into a ball, looking like you were resting peacefully.  He smiled silently, admiring you and what looked like your peaceful slumber. But then he heard it, the small sob that left your chest as you struggled to breathe in air.  Joel frowned, knowing all too well that you were panicking and having a bad panic attack yet again.
Baby, I thought we stopped these, he thought, not enjoying seeing his wife struggle.  He knew you were drowning in your head, unable to get your head above water as gulp after gulp of quick spurts of air were leaving your lungs.  You were like a lost ship out to sea, desperately looking for a way back into port.  Joel knew he was your only lifeline, and it broke his heart that he needed to be this again.  He loved you and always supported you, but seeing you panic like this broke his heart.  Something was bothering you, and he hoped, like hell, that someone wasn’t him.
“Baby, come on, breathe.” He said, slowly reaching out to you and pulling you into his chest.
But you couldn't; your heart was hammering in your chest, and it wouldn't slow down. “I can't breathe,” you said, hyperventilating and sobbing. You didn't know what was wrong or why, but it felt like you couldn't breathe. “Something’s wrong, Joel, I can’t- I can’t breathe.” You said, rushing air in and out of your lungs fast. 
“Baby, look at me,” Joel said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him. Joel reached out instinctively and placed a steady hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it and feeling the soft swell of your stomach that was holding and caring for his child. He was trying to help ground you and reassure you that you were okay and that your baby would be alright, too.
As soon as your eyes met his, you started sobbing and saying, “I can't do this. I'm a failure. I'm always fucking up. No one cares about m-me or loves me.”
“No, babe. Come on now, look at me,” Joel said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes to look at him.  “Come on, with me, yeah? Breathe.”  Joel then took a slow, deep breath, and you mirrored his actions.
“That’s it, sugar, nice and slow,” he said, breathing with you. He was trying to slow your breathing down. After readjusting himself, Joel sat beside you, gently taking your hand and placing it on his chest, holding it tight against him. 
“Feel how I breathe, darlin', now match it. Come on now, slow breath in.” 
*Joel took a slow breath in.*
 “Now, slowly breathe out.” 
*Joel slowly breathed out.*
“And again,” he said, getting you to focus on slowing your breathing down. One of his hands held yours against his chest so that you could feel the pattern of his breaths. The other hand was protectively lying over your bump, gently stroking the skin, centering both you and him that everything was alright with your baby.
After several moments of slowing your breathing and getting you to breathe normally again, you finally sighed and said, “Thanks, Joel.”  
Still sitting above you, Joel furrowed his brow as he looked at you. He didn’t know why you were having a panic attack tonight. It stressed him out and worried him, especially since you were pregnant. He didn’t want you to get too stressed out and put the baby you were carrying under any more stress. After a long moment of observing you, Joel finally sighed and asked, “Why d’ya think you’re a failure?” As he waited for your response, he slowly started stroking your belly once again.
“I don’t know, I- I was upset and spouted my mouth off. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Don’t give me that shit of ‘didn’t mean anything by it.’ Christ woman.” Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand while removing his other hand from your belly.  
You frowned slightly at his movements, knowing that now he was agitated. You didn't want to have any more arguments with him. You two have been finally getting along for a while, and you weren't in the mood to go back to the way things were, where you hardly spoke, and if you did, it would result in an argument. To you, those days were behind you. 
When Joel felt you stiffen below him, he froze. He was frustrated at the situation tonight. Something was bothering you to the point where it made you panic, and he wanted to know why. Why did you think that you were a failure? He felt his heart ache when you continued to look up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at him for fear that it'd start another argument. 
Since when did Joel Miller become such an asshole that his wife didn't want to look at him? Since when did he become your father?
Joel took a deep breath and sighed, realizing how harsh his attitude had been these past few months. Yeah, you two haven't had sex since Halloween, almost five months ago. He reasoned with himself that the lack of sexual intercourse was because of the doctor's orders. But you two haven't done anything else either. Joel didn't blame you; he blamed himself for the change. Tommy even commented the other day to Joel that his brother had changed, but not in a good way. Yeah, Joel Miller was an asshole. But what bothered him the most was he's been an asshole to you, and you've never deserved it.
Sighing at this realization, he turned towards you and gently touched your chin. “Hey, look at me, will ya,” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand. When you finally decided to look at him, he smiled tenderly and whispered, “I love you. You know that, right, baby?”
He felt his eyes sting when you didn't answer and just stared at him. Joel Miller has been drastically fucking things up.
“I'm so fucking sorry, darlin’,” he said while gently placing his hand back again on your bump. “I’m sorry for makin’ this. For fucking everything up where I wasn’t there for you emotionally like I should have been.”
You just glared at him, struggling to keep your tears from falling. “Y-you didn't, shit,” you said, brushing a single tear away from your cheeks. I’m not doing this right now. I’m not going to break down again, you thought. 
Joel could see you were struggling not to get emotional, and he was trying so hard to find ways to fix what he had already broken. “Baby, I was so mad at what ya told me on Halloween. That I wasn't rockin’ your sexual world anymore. I got, fuck baby, I got mad and jealous.”
“Seriously? What could you have been jealous about?” You said, snapping at him with more force than you intended. You were confused and slightly irritated at your husband. Joel was the one who shut you out after Halloween, not you. He barely spoke to you, held you; hell, he still hasn't even fucked you since that night. Sure, you pulled away, too, and you didn't tell him you were pregnant. But every time you tried to open up, he'd shut you down, yell at you, or treat you like you weren't his wife. You sat in silence, not knowing how to respond to your husband. Joel wasn't moving or answering you either, and for a minute, you thought that maybe he'd fallen asleep. But then you heard it, a sniffle, followed by a choked-off sob.
“Joel-” you said softer, looking over at him as you noticed tears streaming down his face. He placed a hand over his eyes, sobbing into it. You didn't understand what was happening or why he was giving you this emotional response.
“I'm s-sorry. I'm so fucking sorry that you d-don't want to be w-with me anymore.” Joel said, continuing to sob into his hand.
Where the hell was this all coming from? You thought. “Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I-”
“Don’t,” Joel said sternly, quickly brushing his tears away. Joel hated crying by himself, and he hated crying in front of you. After taking a moment to collect himself, he leaned down and whispered to your belly, “I'm so sorry that Daddy has fucked this up. I-I love both you and your mama so fucking much, ok?” He gently kissed your belly and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes away. When he sat up, he looked around the room, admiring the home you two had built together, with the front of him facing away from you.
Joel wouldn't look at you, even when you asked him. You were scared, scared of what was coming next. You knew this scene, knew it well from your father. It would be the moment that Joel would tell you he’s been sleeping with someone else.  He’d tell you that you were too much for him and that he couldn’t help it, that it was an accident. You also waited for the words ‘you ruined my life’ to come to his lips, just like your father told you before. But the longer you waited, the longer it was apparent that those words would never come. That’s when you felt your heart begin to race again.
“I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, love. Stop overthinking things. I just wanted to say that you deserve better; you both do. And I know I'm not your favorite human right now and that you’re ashamed to carry my child-”
“Joel Miller, what are you even talking about? I'm not ashamed of-”
Joel stopped you by raising a hand, silencing you, saying, “Please, just let me finish.” He then continued when he knew you wouldn't interrupt him again. “I've, I'm- shit- I'm not good with this stuff, with words. I just- fuck.” 
Joel didn't know what he was trying to say. He felt sorry for Halloween and for the miscommunication you two had. He’s been moody since then and not present in his marriage. He was also very sorry for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him things again, like when you were first pregnant. But most of all, he was sorry for disappointing you as a man and husband.
When Joel realized the last admission in his mind, he felt tears well up again. You had opened your mouth to speak again, but Joel interrupted you by saying, “Ya know, I think my ex-wife was right all those years ago.”
“How so?” you said, tensing at the mention of her.
“She said I always fucked things up, and that's why she was- uh- why it didn't work out between us.” Joel almost said it. The thing he hadn’t told you. That his first wife was unfaithful because he wasn't present in their marriage and didn't give her enough support after Sarah was born.
“Joel,” you said while slowly grabbing his hand. “Baby, I'm not her, and for the record, you ain't fucking things up.”
Joel snorted at your comment, saying, “Darlin', we both know that ain't true. You're pregnant with my child. And you didn't even want to tell me because of it, because of me.”
“Joel, I didn't tell you because I was scared. I'm a woman in my middle thirties who told her husband life was stale in the bedroom. On that same night, he also knocked me up. I wanted to tell you immediately, but as soon as I attempted, you weren't there. You were working 16-hour days and moody because of no help at work. Yeah, I fucked up. I should have said something, but I was scared. I was scared I was trapping you in a marriage you didn't want.”
“What do you mean a marriage I didn't want? Baby, I love you and want you, always. I've never felt trapped, not ever. Why are you thinkin’ that?” Joel said, screwing his face up and not understanding why you thought he didn't want to be married.
“I don't know, just something my dad said when-”
“I ain't your old man,” Joel said, grinding his teeth and flaring his nostrils. At one time, your father, Pat, was Joel's best friend. But that abruptly ended when Pat laid his hands on his daughter and unforgivably hurt her.
“I know it's just- I was worried you didn't want this, want me. I know I'm a lot, a handful, that-” Your voice started to tremble, and your lip was quivering. You couldn't say it out loud. But Joel knew it was the last thing you heard your father say before you walked out of his life, forever.
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Flashback
“Joel, I know my daughter, ok? She's a handful, a complete pain in the ass, and a liability. One that I wish like hell wasn't my damn responsibility anymore. So do yourself a favor; don't get involved. She'll just ruin your life. She’s already ruined mine.”
You had stood there and heard your father tell Joel, your new fiance, he didn't want you as a daughter anymore. That you being around was a burden to him and his life. You were standing in the kitchen as Pat, your father, talked to Joel in the living room. You weren't supposed to hear the conversation, and you knew that. But with what you heard, it had shattered you. You walked out of your father's house with tears in your eyes, never returning. It was good that you walked out before you heard your father's last comment. The one comment that yet today made Joel grind his teeth and see red anytime he thought about it.
“Joel, that girl of mine is nothin’ but a goddamn whore. A bitch, just like her mother. She'll just hurt you in the end. My advice, make sure you have a little something on the side, a nice piece of ass as I did, just as a pick me up. Trust me, you'll get sick of looking at her pathetic ass day in and day out. I did with her mother, and it felt great to go and get some much-needed attention from the girls I had on the side…”
After your father called you a whore and told Joel what took place when Joel had you hang out at his house, he felt sick and saw red with anger. Your dad's weekend trips and late-night house calls were due to him fucking around on your mom, a woman who was battling cancer and eventually lost. But the worst thing that Joel found out was that all those black eyes you were supporting in high school and college weren't because you got into a fight or that a boyfriend hit you. No, Pat was getting drunk and using his fists against his daughter's face. Joel also had a sneaky suspicion that the two cracked ribs you had in college also came from Pat.  Joel couldn't believe that his best friend did that, and worse, you never said anything. Joel would have stopped it immediately if he had known. Pat was no longer in either of your lives anymore.
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Present Day
“Baby, you ain't too much, so stop thinking that. C’mere.” Joel said, having you come and sit on his lap while he placed his back against the headboard.
He helped you straddle him, putting your hard baby belly against his softer belly. Your bump prevented you from getting as close as usual, but it was close enough that Joel could still wrap his arms around you and rest his forehead against yours.  
“Now, darlin’, I want you to take a deep breath for me, ok?”  After you took a deep breath and slowly let it out, you felt your heartbeat return to normal, along with his.  
“I’m so sorry, Joel, that I didn’t tell you-”
“Don’t. Please darlin’. I-I don’t care what we’ve done before. I care about the right here and now. Please.”
You could feel how stressed Joel was. How his muscles tensed with you, referencing you were sorry again for not telling your husband at the beginning of your pregnancy that you were pregnant.  If you could do it again, but differently, you would.  But that’s not life.  Life is about living in the moment, feeling emotions, and allowing yourself to experience it in its messy glory.  It’s about making mistakes and then learning from those mistakes.  But most of all, it’s about forgiveness, hope, compassion, love, and understanding.  You both understood that the choices made these past few months were out of anger, frustration, and loneliness.
With your eyes closed and your understanding of the situations that have surrounded the two of you for a while, you quietly said, “I love you, old man.”
Joel let out a small snort at your teasing. ‘Old man’ was a nickname you gave him long ago when the two of you started dating, and now it was a term of endearment. 
“I love you too, baby girl,” he said, slowly nuzzling his nose against yours.  
When you pulled back and opened your eyes, you saw your husband looking at you lovingly.  His eyes were so soft, tenderness seen behind them. He was your lifeline that tethered you to this world, keeping you anchored and not drifting.  When he slowly kissed you, you felt him tell you in the kiss that you were loved and that everything would be alright.  He was your rock, your protector, your soulmate. But more importantly, he was your Joel. The man who saw you for what you were inside. He saw past your faults and insecurities, of you believing you were too much. He gave you a safe place to land and be in the moment.  You had a lifetime with him, helped him raise Sarah, and gave birth to two strong-willed little boys you loved dearly. And now you were pregnant again, with a baby that was half him and half you growing inside of you. This little one was very much a surprise, but the best possible surprise.  It forced you both to stop your chaotic lives and slow down to remember what life was all about Love.
After several tender kisses, you started to giggle against his mouth.  Joel pulled back at your giggling, confused at your antics. “Darlin’, are you laughing at me?”
You continued giggling and said, “No, Joel, I’m not,” but then you giggled again.
“Baby, please-”
“Joel, I just felt the baby move.”
Joel’s eyebrows shot up, surprised, looking at you with excitement. “R-really? Just now?”
“Yes, just now, when I was thinking how much I loved you and how much this child is teaching us that we need to communicate still, to be strong, and-”
Joel slowly moved his hands down to your stomach and rubbed it tenderly.  He knew he wouldn’t feel movement for another few weeks.  But seeing you feel life for the first time was the best possible gift one could experience with you.  The joy on your face at the realization that a baby was growing inside you, one that he helped create.
“There it is again,” you said, smiling and giggling. You placed your hand right over Joel’s hand, right where you felt movement.  It felt like a cricket, or something ran across your stomach, but from the inside.  It was always the oddest feeling that you’d feel. It wasn’t a full kick yet; those would come in a few weeks.  But in this movement, it always made you laugh when you’d feel it for the first time.
When you looked up at Joel, you were beaming with the biggest smile, while he had the most tender look in his eyes. Softly, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over your skin, giving you and his baby affection. “She's telling her mama that she loves her.”
“Joel, it’s too early. We don’t-” you said, choking up with emotion.  Joel knew you wanted a girl so badly, especially after the two of you lost the only pregnancy before where you were pregnant with a girl. It was a sore subject for the two of you. 
Before, when you were pregnant with a girl, Joel had come home early from work because you said you weren’t feeling well.  He noticed you were sleeping on the couch when he entered the house. Joel quietly went upstairs and showered, but you yelled for him while he was washing his body. Joel quickly rinsed himself off and ran out to the living room, wearing nothing but a towel with water still dripping down his back. When he got to you, you were sitting up and crying.  When he had asked you what was wrong, you pulled back the blanket, and Joel saw a large pool of bright red blood on the couch. You were rushed to the hospital by ambulance, but it was already too late.  The girl you were pregnant with had no heartbeat detected. You stayed in the hospital for observation, delivering the tiny baby that night. 
After you were asleep in the hospital, Joel had gone home. He took the sledgehammer to the couch, tears streaming down his face while hitting it. Tommy found him beating the hell out of the sofa, crying and screaming at how much he hated the world for taking the one thing that you wanted away from you: a little girl.
And now, all these years later, when you hear Joel reference a girl, you can’t help but get scared. Sure, you hoped for a girl and dreamed of it again, but you also didn't want to go through losing another baby once again.   
“It’s just a hunch, darlin’, and don’t worry, mama; I’ll keep you both safe.  Now come on, time for you both to go to bed.” Joel said, wrapping you in his arms to help silence your fears.
Joel laid you down and got you situated after he brought you some water to drink.  He pulled you tight to him, your back against his bare chest as he traced small circles on your belly, helping you quickly fall asleep.  After Joel knew you were sleeping soundly, he quietly whispered, “Little one, please stay in here no matter what, ok? I don’t know if you’re a girl or a boy, but I think you may be a girl this time.  Regardless, your mama needs you to be healthy, and Daddy needs you to be healthy. You’ve heard bad words these past few months when your mama and I have been arguing. But please know, I’m beyond excited to be a dad yet again, your dad. I love you both so much, ok. Stay in there, and let your mama have a nice, easy pregnancy, ok? I love you.”
Joel stilled his hand on your bump, gently holding it snug while he drifted off to sleep. Neither of you knew that deep inside your belly, a tiny baby girl was growing nice and strong. Even though this pregnancy was difficult at times, that baby had no plans of leaving anytime soon. She would be the miracle and the one thing that helped you focus on fixing your marriage once and for all. 
They say that life throws the most challenging curveballs when you least expect them and that sometimes those challenging events shape you into a better human being. That’s always been the story for you and Joel, and now, you both are about to enter the exciting part of your pregnancy—the one that will reshape your current Marriage Dynamics.
End of Chapter
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goodiecornbread · 1 year
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Danuary, day 25
How is it that he can sell his glasses using a pic where he's not even wearing them properly? Not sure, but I'll take 10.
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mimimui · 10 months
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genshin boys when you're sick
includes: albedo, childe, scaramouche, tighnari
tags: established relationship, fluff, endearments, teasing from scaramouche, scara has an anemo vision here
a/n: I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO FOR SCARA + it was only supposed to be hcs but i got carried away :') tmi i should be bedridden rn so idk how i'm still able to write this .. enjoy !
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"(y/n)," albedo calls out, moving from his desk to your bedside. it's been a while since you stepped foot in dragonspine, so the effects its weather had on you wasn't surprising. "are you feeling better?" he asks, to which you reply with a painful cough.
albedo sighs worriedly, bringing his hand to your forehead to assess your body temperature. "i can't let you stay at my tent, your temperature won't go down here," he says, thinking of ways to bring you back to mondstadt. you're wrapped up in his coat, shivering from the cold.
"bedo, i'm fine," you say weakly to reassure him. "we can walk down dragonspine, i just need to wear more layers." you sit up from the bed, but then your spliting headache makes you wince. "ow..." you complain, and albedo is quick to wrap his arms around you.
"my love, i'll ask for knights to pick you up from here." albedo rubs your back gently, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. his comfort doesn't take away the pain of your headache, but it's reassuring. "thank you, bedo," you say softly.
"i'll take care of you while they get here. get well soon, my love."
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childe is instantly worried about you when teucer tells him you've been in bed all day. he opens the door to his bedroom to see you wrapped in a mountain of blankets. usually, he'd find it cute, but he has a feeling you're sick.
"darling, i'm home," he says, pulling the blankets down to see you sniffling underneath. he regrets answering to his mission when he sees you sick. "(y/n), i'm sorry, i shouldn't have left you alone." childe quickly damps a towel with cool water, placing it on your forehead gently.
"it's okay, ajax, you didn't know." you hold his hand and smile weakly at him. his pouting face easily makes you laugh, but your happiness is short-lived as you sneeze again, which makes childe squeeze your hand. "i can go to the pharmacy to get you medicine, but i don't want to leave you alone again..."
"i'll be fine, you can head out to the pharmacy."
"maybe i can ask tonia to head out for me-"
"ajax." he laughs at your suddenly stern tone, saying he was just joking.
"i'll be back, darling. wait for me, will you?"
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constant 'i told you so's flood your ears as you watch scaramouche wring your jacket before hanging it on a branch. you two were casually out on a walk when it began to rain. this didn't stop you, however, as you cheerfully ran around.
scaramouche took protection from under a tree, scoffing as he sees you enjoying the rainfall. the rain has since then stopped, and now your sopping, sneezing, body sits next to his legs. "i told you the rain would make you sick."
"i know, you've told me like, 20 times now." you cross your arms as you sneeze again, earning a loud sigh from scaramouche. he finally sits down, but you don't look at him, as you sneeze once more in the other direction.
his constant scolding was getting a bit irritating until you felt a gust of wind coming from beside you. you turn to look at scaramouche, whose head was facing the other way. his hand was producing a constant source of anemo, which was slowly drying your clothes.
"you always play in the rain and get sick and guess whose liability you become? mine!"
"i'm sorry..." "ha? why are you sorry? anyway,"
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lucky for you, tighnari is the best at taking care of others when they're sick. he knows exactly what medicine they need and how much rest they should get. "stay in bed, dearest, you're still sick." one problem: he doesn't let you do anything.
even if it's just a small cough or cold, he's quick to make sure you stay in bed. he always makes sure to stay with you though, so it's not all that bad. when he has to go out, he asks collei to watch you for him. of course collei is worried about you as well, but she at least lets you have a little more freedom.
"don't tell tighnari you let me go out, okay?" you and collei went for a stroll just outside your hut, the nice breeze being easy to breath in. "i won't (y/n)," she whispers, not wanting to get caught by the other forest rangers who don't know you're out of bed.
as you and collei enjoy your stroll, you hear a familiar voice in the distance, and a shiver runs down your spine. "..collei, i have to run," you tell her, and she nods her head. tighnari got back earlier than you thought, and he caught you both outside the hut. "(y/n)! hey!"
you run, or rather, jog, away from tighnari as he (slowly) chases you. you laugh as you playfully scream, the other forest rangers admiring the sight of the two of you playing cat and mice. when he finally catches up to you, he grabs your wrist and drags you back to your hut. "nari, i just wanted to go for walk."
"i know, but as your caretaker, it's my job to look after you. get better first, and then we can walk all you want."
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thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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macfrog · 8 months
Text
ace sex on fire chapter six
this entire chapter is me making up for 1. the golfing line in chapter two, and 2. joel's entire experience of tlou2. naughty dog i'm waiting for ur response. 24 hours to reply
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pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel takes you on a day trip to go golfing. it turns out to be more fun than you expected
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) golf. idk what else to say. age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, more sugardaddy!joel, discussions of pregnancy + reader perhaps not wanting children, sort of possessive!joel?, praise kink, unprotected piv car sex, daddy kink, exhibitionist fantasy, creampie, more teasing + flirting, angst + pining, alcohol consumption, cursing
word count: 9.7k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
“Good girl. He there?” The image of Daniel flits across your vision, bright blue eyes trained on you. He looks…intrigued, and stunned. He’s not breaking his stare. “Mhm,” you say again, and start to lift off of Joel. “He watching?” “Y-eah,” you choke out, bouncing steadily. “Put on a show for ‘im, pretty girl. Show him what you do for me.”
The cab squeaks to a halt right outside the office, dropping you at the bottom of the concrete steps leading up to the revolving door. There are already bodies filtering in and out of the building, despite how early it is.
You thank the driver – Mick, you’ve come to learn. He seems to run this route on weekday mornings; it’s always him who shows up at your apartment when you can’t be bothered to walk to work, or miss the damn bus. Mick tosses a thumbs up over his shoulder and you swing out into the brilliant sun.
It’s Thursday. You’ve been home sixty-five hours, by your count. Joel gave you a couple days after landing stateside to catch up on sleep, readjust. He’d gone back to work Tuesday morning, though, 8AM sharp. Martha had text to ask where you were, and had sent six laughing emojis back when you replied with, How the fuck is he back already?
You make the climb up the steps, back to work, back to normality. It drags like a weight at your heels, the thought of returning to that gray office after three days wandering around picture-perfect, painted-pink Paris. After three days of Joel.
That split-open feeling, the cavity between your ribs – it’s sewn itself up since you got back to your own apartment, your own space. Since you showered a couple times, washed your clothes, started smelling like yourself again instead of Joel. Its sutures are made from the sound of the subway squealing to a halt, the smell of Chinese takeout from the place across the street.
But there’s a tiny piece of you, small enough to stay hidden from even yourself sometimes, that you know misses it. Misses…him. It only hurts when you touch it – the sewn-up scar, messy in your frantic attempts to close it up – it aches when you remember his hands on your waist whenever you wanted them there, his lips below your ear whenever you needed him.
As you approach the glass doors, you hear a whistle from behind, and turn to watch Joel slip out of his Rolls and jog up the steps. There’s a sports bag hanging from his left hand.
“Am I a dog?” you ask when he reaches you.
“It was an endearin’ whistle.”
“Very endearing. Don’t do it again.”
He nods once. “Yes, ma’am. Feelin’ awake yet?”
“Almost.” You follow him into the building, clicking along the polished marble floor at his side. “You didn’t waste any time getting back into the swing of things, I hear.”
You both nod good morning to the receptionists, and Joel hits the button to call the elevator.
“I’m an important man, baby,” he says, shrugging. “My job ain’t just answerin’ the phone ‘n making coffee.”
You scoff, slapping his back as he leads you through the sliding doors, which closer over and shut you both into your first moment of privacy in almost seventy hours. Joel immediately turns to face you, words behind his eyes that he can’t seem to sort into a coherent sentence.
In what you hear as an attempt to summarize, he says: “Back to reality.”
You brush the shoulders of his blazer, tug on his tie to straighten it. It’s the most you can bring yourself to do that doesn’t involve throwing yourself at him. There’s a throbbing right below your chest, like a magnet tugging you towards the man stood in front of you. Touching the padded shoulder of his suit will have to do. For now.
You lift your eyebrows, staring at the knot of his tie. “Yep.”
It’s pretty reductive, Back to reality. But then, what else is there to say? What else that wasn’t said between your bodies in Paris? A line was crossed there – you both went somewhere you can’t come back from so easily. And moving forward the way you had been before, seems equally as impossible.
There are eyes on you here. There are people who care to know what might be going on – whether they like it or not doesn’t matter. No more strutting out onto the terrace, running your hands all over one another, connecting skin and tongue in ways you wouldn’t have dreamt up two weeks ago.
No. This stays secret. A secret between you, Joel, and the French skies.
Joel places a hand on the small of your back as the elevator doors whip open. He ushers you out, and then, once in view of Martha’s desk, sidesteps to an appropriate distance.
“Welcome back,” your colleague greets you as you approach her desk. “Missed you, kid.”
You smile coyly. “Thanks,” you mumble. Guilt isn’t the easiest of emotions to hide.
Joel taps your arm gently and then nods towards his office. “Catch-up,” he says, and Martha rounds her desk to follow after him.
You drop your jacket and purse over the back of your chair and slip in behind them, leaning back on one of Joel’s leather couches with your arms crossed.
“Alright,” Martha sighs, “few things needing done this morning. First…”
You take a deep breath and slump down until your ass sits comfortably on the couch cushion, your knees draped over the arm, cradled inside your elbows.
Joel notices, and smirks to himself. He dials into his voicemail, hits a button, and a familiar voice echoes from his desk.
“Hey, Joel,” Drew’s voice says, “hope you enjoyed Paris ‘n aren’t still too hungover. I know what Jean-Marc’s like…”
Martha moves to the next bullet point, tilting her pad and tapping the tip of her pen to some messy scrawling you can’t read. You nod, eyes flitting up to watch Joel.
“Just wanted to check in and make sure you’re still good for later. S’posed to be a good day for it. Let me know if you need any help with directions. Alright. Looking forward to seeing you two soon. Cool.”
The machine cuts. Joel sits back in his chair, rests his heels on the wood in front of him. Black, shiny, ridiculously expensive shoes crossed over on top of a black, shiny, ridiculously expensive desk.
“…now, Ken needs to receive this as soon as possible, alright? I said I’d have it done by end of day yesterday – I did not, so I need you to –”
“Who’s you two?” you ask Joel, peering over Martha’s notepad.
He looks up, tossing a rubber band ball in his hands. “You ‘n me, darlin’.”
“I’m sorry,” Martha declares, “am I talking to myself–?”
You push her notepad out of your view, still staring at Joel. “What do you mean, you ‘n me?”
Martha drops her hands with a sigh. You repeat your question.
“Us,” Joel says, hint of irritation in his voice like you’re supposed to be in on something. “We’re goin’ golfing with him.”
“We’re going golfing?”
Martha, now exasperated, swings the pad under her bicep and crosses her arms over her chest, makes something of a growling noise. “You two are unbeliev…Are you listening to me?” she demands, clicking her fingers in front of you.
“No,” you reply simply, eyes locked on Joel’s.
His lips curve with a soft laugh. “You ain’t read your emails?” he asks.
Your head darts between him and Martha. Bewildered. “I was catching up on sleep, thank you very much,” you assert, nodding with finality at the blonde updo hovering over you.
You know she cares about you – at least enough to water your monstera deliciosa while you were gone – but Martha can be sharp; her outspokenness is something to admire and to fear, in one small five-foot-three frame.
She snorts, glancing over to Joel with a disbelieving shake of her head, but he doesn’t take her up on it. Just looks at her blankly and then turns back to you.
“We’re meeting Drew up at Aspen Heights. Few of his buddies are in town, he wanted to introduce ‘em to me.”
“And I’m coming – why?”
“Because he met you last week, musta liked you, ‘n he invited you.”
Your mouth opens to reply, some retort to bring into question the need for your presence at a fucking round of golf, when Joel and his words cut yours short in your throat.
“And I want you there with me.”
Martha raises her eyebrows when you look up at her. The thing is: this all seems very normal, from her perspective. You did such a good job at keeping Joel right in Paris, didn’t you? He made his flight there on time, he met with Jean-Marc without a hitch, and he was actually an hour early for his flight home.
That last part was because you’d woken up with the sun and couldn’t get back to sleep, so you woke him, too and…well. Kept each other busy until you physically couldn’t anymore. There wasn’t much point hanging around in the hotel suite when your cases were packed and your bodies were…fragile, so you left for the airport.
To her ignorant eyes – and bless her – this is all just networking. It’s you building work relationships, Joel at the helm overseeing everything and setting it all up for you. This is clear – that that’s all she thinks – when she says:
“He’s doin’ you a favor, sweetheart. You should go.”
“I don’t even have any golfing gear. I’m in suit trousers.” Your eyes trail down your black pinstripe pants, legs dangling from the arm of the couch.
“And you look fantastic,” Joel quips, though you know he’s half-serious, “but you do gotta find somethin’ more…” he waves a hand, “…golf.”
“Something more golf. That’s helpful.”
“Here,” he says, stretching into his back pocket. His hips lift from the seat of his chair, and your eyes land on the space just south of his belt buckle. He pulls his credit card from his wallet – the same one you could probably recite the numbers of by heart at this point – and holds it out. “Go grab somethin’ nice. My treat.”
My treat. Like he didn’t treat you all damn weekend.
You pull yourself up and take the card from his fingers.
“’n what about my list?” Martha asks.
Joel shrugs. “Ken can wait one more day. You got two hours,” he tells you, and then sits up straight, rubber band ball placed safely next to his Newton’s cradle. “I’ll have Rand take you.”
You follow Martha out of Joel’s office when his phone starts ringing and his head falls into his hands, letting you both know it’s not a call you want to be around to hear. As he lifts the handset, he lightly calls your name, and you exchange a sly smirk as you slip out the door.
Martha wanders off behind her own desk as you pull your purse over your shoulder. She loads her computer back up, chin lifting as she squints through her glasses at the screen.
“There’s a golf shop downtown,” she tells you, two index fingers tapping away on the keys. “Alan uses ‘em. Don’t think they’re too expensive, either. Wouldn’t know for sure, though, he spends so damn much anytime he’s in there.”
You watch her for a moment, nodding along. “Thanks, Martha.”
She holds up a finger as you walk past her desk toward the elevator. “Remember you still got my to-do list to tackle, so don’t be long!”
----------
Rand drops you on a quiet side street. He gives you his number, tells you to text him once you’re done, and the sleek black car rolls off.
On the corner sits Ace’s Pro Golf, a small, charming store, peeling wooden front painted fern green with golf-themed decals decorating the windows. You set off inside, passing under two transparent putters crossed over one another on the window above the door. An old brass bell rings out from overhead when you enter.
Its exterior is misleading. This store is huge. Overwhelmingly huge. Walls stacked with bags, clubs dangling from pegs. Baskets of balls and tees and other accessories dotted all over the creaky wooden floors, which are lined with racks upon racks of golfing clothes – shirts, trousers, dresses, skirts.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, edging towards the rails.
You slip between them, hand running along the multicolored choices, when your phone starts to ring, vibrating somewhere deep in your purse.
“Hey, Mom,” you mutter, slipping your cell between your cheek and your shoulder as you begin to search through the shirts in front of you.
“Hey, baby,” her voice sings to you. “Wasn’t expecting to catch you, thought you’d already be at work. Where you at?”
You sigh. “I’m shopping. Joel’s taking me golfing later.”
She almost chokes down the line. “Golfing?”
“Yeah. It’s this friend he went to school with, I met him at lunch last week. There’s a few of ‘em going, so he asked me along, too.”
“Nice guy. So, you’re shopping for an outfit?”
“Mhm.”
“Any…dress code?”
“Dress code?” You straighten up, switching the phone to your other ear. “Like, golfing gear? I dunno.”
She laughs. “Alright.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing! Nothing, baby.”
“Meant something, Mom. Tell me.”
“No, I just…” She sighs. “You’re sure this isn’t, like…It sounds an awful lot like a date. Like, you’re going on Joel’s arm.”
You’re silent. You suck in a deep breath, fixing an order of words in reply, when your mom cuts in again.
“I bet I’m way off. Forget I said anything.”
“Yeah, gross,” you refute, metal hangers squealing against the rail when you unfreeze. “No. Not a date. It’s, like, networking, or whatever.”
Mom snorts. “Right. Exactly.”
“Not – a date,” you repeat.
You’re relieved when she changes the subject. “Show me what you’re looking at.”
You huff, pulling the phone down and switching to FaceTime. In a second, your mom’s bright, swollen cheeks and ringlet curled hair are on the screen, and she flashes you a pearly smile.
“Was thinking maybe this…?” You angle the phone to show her a navy-blue polo shirt. “And then a white skirt?”
“Nah,” she cuts, and you flip your camera back to your face.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Too blue. You look better in neutrals. Try beige or brown. Boring colors, y’know? Blend into the walls.”
You hiss something she doesn’t need to hear under your breath and then follow it up with a slightly more polite, “Screw you.”
Her image on your screen shakes violently with how hard she laughs at herself. “I’m messing with you. You know you’ll look beautiful no matter what you choose. Wait a second, though – can you even golf?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever touched a golf club in my life.”
“Thought as much. Does Joel know you’re about to embarrass him like this?”
“He’s aware.”
“Please get him to take some videos. I gotta see this.”
“You know what,” you grumble, holding back your own laughter now, “I’m hanging up. You just solidified your place in the nursing home, you know that?”
She’s still laughing, words pushing through her cackles in desperate punches. “Wait, wait! I gotta tell you why I called you.”
“Alright, go. Thirty seconds.”
“Riley’s pregnant.”
Your face screws up. Lips curl upside down into a grimace. “Oof. Good…good for her…?”
Your mom throws her head back with a roar of laughter. “Be more enthusiastic about it. A little niece or nephew for you!”
“’s more like a…second cousin, or whatever. I bet Aunt Rose is over the moon.”
“She called me screaming this morning. I just thought you’d like to hear, being that you’re in a permanent state of baby fever.”
“Ha,” you state, blank expression never changing. It causes her to erupt into another fit of giggles. “That’s nice, I guess. For Riley. Tell her I said congrats.”
“I will. And I’ll leave out the part where you almost threw up. Alright, I’ll let you go. Good luck golfing. Come back with a hot millionaire boyfriend, maybe! Love you!”
“Yep. ‘kay. Love you. Love you, too – ‘kay – bye – bye, Mom.”
You hang up mid-laugh and her caramel cheeks disappear from the screen. You drop your phone back into your purse and slot the navy-blue polo under your arm, spinning to the rail behind you to find a skirt to go with it.
Riley, pregnant. That’s fucking insane. You two used to spend entire summers riding your bikes around your hometown, spending all of your allowance down at the mall. You swear you’re not old enough to have babies yet. Swear you’re not even old enough to be out of Mom’s house, living on your own in the city.
But then here you are, five years in, making a mental note to buy a baby gift for your cousin, on top of the pre-existing ones reminding you to message that girl who lived across the street when you were kids to say, Congrats on your engagement, and pick up a new home card for your two friends who are on their third mortgage.
Your mom finds it funny – always has. The instant repulsion you feel, the way you recoil whenever you’re asked about kids, about a partner, about a three-bed-two-bath in the suburbs with a big yard and good school nearby.
You don't think any of it's for you. And that’s fine, and every time you skate over the topic, your mom tells you it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s –
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh,” you snap out of your daydream, clutching a white skirt in your hands, “sorry. I’m sorry. No, I’m good, thanks. Sorry.”
The assistant smiles kindly and nods. Then he spins on his heel and waltzes off, disappearing behind a cardboard cutout of a golfer mid-swing.
It’s not lost on you, by the way – what your mom said. Sounds an awful lot like a date. You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t also crossed your mind. Joel, wanting you there with him. Giving you his card to buy somethin’ nice, which, after the last week, you translate roughly as: something I’ll like. Something he’ll see, and his second thought will be ripping it off your body.
His first thought will be what you’d look like taking it off for him.
And for that reason, you slip the short skirt under your arm beside the polo, and head across the store to find some more stuff to waste Joel’s money on.
----------
Rand pulls up by the curb a few yards down from Ace’s, where you’re sat on a bench enjoying an ice cream. He rolls the window down and lowers his black sunglasses.
“You bein’ paid for this?” he asks, grinning.
You nod, gleeful. “By the hour. Want an ice cream?”
He snorts when you hold Joel’s black card up between two fingers, tilting it in the sunlight. And then he puts the car in park, climbs out, and jaunts over to the ice cream cart by your bench.
He orders a three-scoop cone, and you nod in approval when he sits down alongside you, unbuttoning his suit jacket.
“Respect it,” you say, cheersing your own half-finished cone against his.
----------
When you get back to work, Joel’s already changed into a crisp, clean golfing outfit. It weakens your knees a little when you saunter into his office.
A long-sleeved, dark polo shirt that shows off every curve and flex of his toned arms, paired with gray, just-tight-enough trousers. And pristine white shoes so sharp and clean you’d swear he’d had them polished just for the occasion.
You ignore the way your head lightens at the sight of him and throw yourself into the chair to his right, white back from Ace’s falling between your ankles.
“Alright, Tom, thanks for lettin’ me know,” he says, arms folded, sat back against his desk. He leans back, places the phone back in its cradle, and looks you up and down. “Have fun?”
You shrug, leaning forward to pick a piece of lint from his thigh. “Didn’t know what to get for the most part, so there’s probably stuff I don’t need in there.”
He squints down at his cell phone. “Like, uh…Duke’s Scoops?”
You stare back at him, mirroring his cheeky smirk. Your leg swings, arms cross over your chest, covering the way your breath falters. He’s seen the transactions.
“You gonna grudge me three dollars on an ice cream, Miller?”
“Six fifty,” he mutters, glancing down at his phone again to double check. His tongue runs across his top lip. You want to replace it with yours. “So…that’s at least two ice creams, pretty girl.”
“It’s a hot day. Rand deserved something to cool down. We sat on a bench in the shade ‘n had a nice chat. He taught me how to swing. Verbally,” you add, when Joel’s eyebrows lift.
“Taught you how to swing,” he echoes, and you nod.
“Did you know he used to compete? Junior league?”
He pouts his bottom lip. “Mighta come up in the, what, fifteen years since I met him?”
You beam in reply, standing up and hooking your fingers through the string handles of your shopping bag. “I’m gonna go get changed now.”
“Could just get changed in the car on the way, ‘s a thirty-minute drive.”
You lean in close, eyes flitting over to Martha’s desk to make sure she’s not watching. Your lips brush softly against his ear. “I don’t wanna take any time away from other stuff we could get up to,” you murmur, and Joel’s hand locks around yours, attempting to pull you back as you skip off.
“Be right back,” you call, letting the door fall shut on his suggestive smirk, his tight trousers, and the hard bulge beneath them.
You return five minutes later in your getup. Joel has much the same reaction as you did with him, though he’s not half as good at hiding it. He sits upright in his chair, fingers tight around the armrests.
“Uhuh,” he says, eyes diving to your legs and then resurfacing somewhere around your chest. “Let me just –” he leans over to his phone, “– call Drew, let ‘im know we ain’t comin’…”
“Shut up,” you scoff. “Looks good, though, right?”
Joel’s eyes are still trained on your bare thighs, one crossed over the other. “Looks…better than good.”
You bat your eyelashes. “Still mad about the ice cream?”
“No, ma’am. Not mad at all.”
He stands, slinging both his bag and yours over his shoulder, and walks around his desk to meet you. You give him one final warning.
“You know I’ve never played golf before, right?”
“I know,” he affirms.
“So…bringing me is kinda pointless. I am not gonna bring anything worthwhile.”
“You in that outfit,” Joel mutters – and as he passes by, he makes sure to brush his swollen crotch up against your ass – “makes it worthwhile already.”
----------
Aspen Heights is a hundred and fifty-acre course, vibrant green fairways rolling over hilly land laid out like crinkles in a sheet of green felt. Rand drives slowly up to the clubhouse, gravel crackling under the tires of the Rolls as you and Joel lean over to stare at the landscape – the unkempt, sprawling wild plants guarding the pristine course, the bunkers like giant splotches of white paint on the grass.
You turn back and look to Joel, brows knitting in an expression which could be translated as amazement, could be intrigue, or could simply be: What the fuck are we doing here?
He mirrors it, shaking his head. And it makes you laugh.
“What?” he asks, smiling.
“You could buy this place, easy. Don’t act like you don’t fit in.”
“If you think I fit in here,” he grunts, getting out of the now parked car, “you think very highly of me, angel.”
He doesn’t deny that he could afford to buy it.
The clubhouse is…much the same. Huge, grand, surrounded by a wide-open porch and fronted by a dome-shaped room, paneled by windows that reflect the scene before them.
You follow Joel’s lead, climbing the steps to the double doors by his side, staying close enough that he can guide you with a bump of his arm against yours, but far enough apart that it doesn’t look like you’re showing up together.
Inside, you follow two smartly-dressed attendants through to a room finished in dark oak, shining wooden floors under bare-bulb light figures, a solid marble bar in the center and six perfectly symmetrical high tables surrounding it.
You glance nervously around the room. Drew’s stood over by the windows with three other men – a tan guy with a white baseball cap on, fluorescent orange polo buttoned up to his neck, a shorter guy with tight black curls, fiddling with the cap of a bottle of water, and finally, a guy with dark hair combed within an inch of its life into perfect place, shoulders almost ripping through his blue polo. He looks like he’s been copy-pasted straight from a magazine called Golf Weekly, or something.
Joel takes one step across a patterned rug and Drew notices you both. He breaks off from the group.
“Hey, man.” He grins at Joel and leans over to shake his hand – well, it’s more of that slap-hand thing. They slap each other’s palms, fingers lock, one quick shake of the wrists together, and then a nod of the head. You know?
Then he leans over to you, kisses your cheek. “Sorry it’s just us guys,” he says, hand on your arm. He looks over to the three men by the window, now looking out over the course and pointing. “My girlfriend was supposed to be joining us, but she got called in to work. You two woulda gotten along, you ‘n Rach.”
You smile warmly. “That’s okay. Thanks for asking me.”
“You play much?” Drew asks, leading you both over to the windows.
You shake your head and Joel breathes a laugh.
“Total beginner,” you admit.
Drew bats a hand. “We’ll show you the ropes. This is, uh, this is Steve,” he points to Fluorescent Orange, “Caleb,” Water Bottle holds his hand out to shake yours, “and that’s Daniel.”
Up close, Daniel’s handsome. Sharp jawline, shadowed by the beginnings of stubble, a dimple in the center of his chin. He steps forward, holding a hand out, and you take it. His palm engulfs yours and squeezes – soft but sure. And then you pull away.
The men all nod to Joel, who probably nods back from behind you, and then catches you gently in his arm, cradling it around your back out of view of the others.
“We’ll be getting started soon,” Drew says, “they’re just fixing up a few buggies for us.”
Joel nods, lets go of you, and crosses his arms. You knot your hands awkwardly at your waist. He stays right by your side, though, which you’re grateful for. The last thing you need is another Jean-Marc, some cloaked assistant swooping you off away from the comfort of Joel.
“How’s business, Joel? Drew was tellin’ us about some deal you’re tryna nail.”
Daniel’s eyes are sharp, cerulean blue drilling deep into the warm brown of Joel’s, which calmly stare back. He looks a little younger than Joel, maybe on the cusp of forty, only a few light strands of grey through his deep brown fringe. There’s no wedding ring on his finger. You don’t know why you’re even looking at that.
Joel doesn’t reveal much in the way of answers. Typical of him – or typical of the Joel he is to the rest of the world. “Yeah, ‘s good. Just takin’ my time, we’re workin’ on it.”
Daniel nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically. He crosses his arms, biceps bulging, and then rounds on you.
“You gotta be run off your feet, chasing after him all day, huh?”
You tilt your head toward Joel. “He keeps me busy, yeah.”
Daniel leans into you, laughter crooning from his lips. It wobbles you a little, forces you one step nearer Joel’s side. You smile back, as pleasant as you can muster the courage, and he eventually leans away.
Before he can ask another question, Drew’s calling you all over to the sliding patio doors. Daniel hops back a step, nods to you, and says, “After you.”
“Thanks, Dan,” Joel cuts, stepping into the space the blue-eyed man had left specifically for you, sweeping you off as he goes.
----------
There isn’t anything about golf that intrigues you. Not even remotely. You’ve never watched it, never wanted to play it – the most you’ve dabbled in it is minigolf, and even that became a fucking bore after two anniversary dates in a row there with Blake.
Still, you watch patiently and politely as the men take their shots one by one, starting with Drew, all the way through to Daniel, who gives his driver a quick shine with a gloved hand before stepping up. On your left, Joel scoffs quietly to himself.
Daniel swings back, and his biceps swell under the tight sleeves of his shirt. You watch as his arms follow through, sending the ball hurtling through the air and well past its three predecessors.
Joel nudges your elbow.
“Ow,” you mumble, running a hand over the skin.
He gives you a perplexed look. “I said, you can use my clubs. You in there?”
“Yeah,” you reply, a little too defensively. “Just…paying attention.”
“Hm.”
The men on your right groan as Daniel strides back over to join them, a satisfied grin across his face. Your eyes trace him as he leans on his driver, one white pant leg crossing over the other.
When you turn back to the tee box, Joel’s lifting his own club from his bag. His broad, muscled shoulders flex under the dark material of his shirt; his tall figure walks over to the tee, delicate fingers dancing along the handle of the club, and he clears his throat.
And suddenly, the memory of Daniel and his stupid biceps is dust in the wind.
Joel takes, like, half a practice swing. Doesn’t even have to aim, not really. Just pulls his arms back, sucks his waist in, and goes for it.
His ball lands a couple meters ahead of Daniel’s. And you wonder when the fuck golf became this sexy.
He turns back and runs his tongue over his top lip, breathing a little heavy. The sight drives you fucking insane for the second time today. And then he’s smiling at you, jerking his head in a gesture for you to join him.
You step forward, a little shy, a little hot, and wander mutely over to him.
“I got you,” he says, and reaches for your wrist.
You move to take the driver from his hand and Joel clicks his teeth, shaking his head.
“Said I got you,” he utters, and pulls your body into his, shelling around you. His beard scratches lightly against your ear.
“Joel,” you whisper, laughing nervously and tossing a quick glance back over to the men standing just feet away. Drew just said something apparently hilarious. Caleb gives him a solid whack on the shoulder and doubles over laughing. Steve’s watching a butterfly float by.
“They ain’t watchin’,” Joel says, curving his arms around yours and fixing your hands on the handle of the club. “s just you ‘n me.”
You wriggle under his grasp and feel the hum of laughter from his chest between your shoulders, the weight of his belt riding on your ass. Your cheeks heat when his chin rests on your collarbone.
“Alright,” he says, hands tightening around your own. “You’re gonna line it up, stand with your legs a little apart, little more…”
The toe of his shoe taps your heel and you widen your stance.
“Good girl,” he whispers. A pulse shakes through your body. “Now, on your backswing, you’re gonna want your left shoulder under your chin, ‘n your hands above your right shoulder. Yeah?”
“Got it,” you mumble, so unconvincing that it makes you laugh after you’ve said it.
He gives your waist a tiny squeeze and steps back, watching as you carefully lift the club and curve it around your shoulders. You hear him from behind.
“’attagirl. Keep your knees bent, you got it.”
You take one good swing, and hit the ball on your first try, but it’s…it’s bad, for sure. It’s pretty terrible. The ball lands on this side of the fairway, muddled in amongst the longer grass of the rough. But it’s your first ever shot – least not with colored balls and spinning windmills in the way – and so when you turn back to Joel with a huge beam across your lips, your expression is reflected in his.
“Good job!” he chuckles, stalking back over to you.
“Good job,” you echo with a laugh, handing him the club. You twist and hold your hand up to shield your eyes, staring down the course. “Look where it is, ‘n look where yours are.”
He glances back over to where your sad little ball sits. “We’ll get a few drinks down those guys,” he whispers, hand on your back. “See how good they are in a few holes’ time.”
----------
You’re back in the clubhouse after finishing the eighteenth hole on something of a high. Joel managed to worsen the accuracy of your competitors only so much – your end of the deal was to improve as the round went on, which you try to argue you technically did, given that you began to land your shots on the fairway around hole seven, but your argument is let down by Joel’s reminder that, on hole thirteen, he had to dig your ball out of the bunker for you.
“And I am eternally grateful to you for agreeing to never fucking talk about it again,” you say through gritted teeth, and he laughs.
“Last time, promise.”
Drew joins the pair of you at your table and slaps an arm down on Joel’s shoulder.
“Your round, asshole.”
Joel grumbles, gives your elbow a cursory tap, and slides off to the bar. Drew takes his seat, nudges your arm.
“I am impressed,” he tells you, slurring his words a little.
“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods. “I didn’t think I was so good.”
“Oh,” he shakes his head, “you weren’t. I meant I’m impressed you stuck it out.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you hiss.
He snorts, head bobbing with the alcohol bubbling in his blood. “I’m kidding. You were great, for your first time. I’m really glad you came.”
“Me, too,” you admit.
Drew opens his mouth to say something else when a clatter from across the clubhouse interrupts him. You turn at the same time to see a waiter on his ass at the other side of the room. His metal tray rattles against the wooden floor, flutes smashed in a pool of champagne by his side.
“Oh, shoot,” Drew mumbles, setting his glass down on the table.
You push off your stool, sliding your drink alongside his, but he motions for you to stay.
“I got it,” he says, palm lightly tapping your wrist. “I got it.”
He shuffles off to the waiter, now being helped to his feet by Caleb. The last you see is Drew bending to grab the silver tray, before he’s swept out of your view by –
“Poor guy,” Daniel muses, fist locked tight around a lager. He pulls Joel’s stool out and slips onto the cushion, elbow brushing against yours.
You readjust awkwardly in your own chair and pull on the hem of your skirt.
“So,” Daniel clears his throat, the bottom of his glass scraping along the wooden tabletop, “how’d you find your first round of golf?”
You smile politely. “Uh, good. Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to be much, but it wasn’t too scary.”
He chuckles. “Yeah? Think you’ll be back?”
Your shoulders jerk with a shrug. “Maybe.”
He nods and dives headfirst into some long ramble about golf – something about the time he brought his sister and her kids here and how much worse they were than you, so you should really be proud of yourself, and he’d love to see you around here again sometime – but you’re only half listening. You’re stealing glances over at the bar, hunting for a chiseled jawline and monochrome beard.
You spot him locked between Steve and some other guy in all black, waiting for the bartender to draw up his order of drinks. He’s nodding, saying words back to the pair, but keeping his eyes locked on you.
You give him half a smile, half a, There you are, what the hell’s taking you so long? Can you come the fuck back? and hope he reads the words across your face.
“…so, as long as you stick with what you know, it’s actually a really enjoyable game.”
Daniel stares at you blankly, waiting for a response.
“Sure, sure,” you answer, after too long a pause to convince him that you were listening. “Sorry,” you close your eyes and give your head a shake, “was just checking on that waiter.”
Daniel nods. Follows the trail of your eyeline across the room, and looks back to you. “So, uh,” he clears his throat nervously, “I know this place downtown – Italian, has this big open rooftop seating area. If you’re interested, I’d, uh…I’d love to take you, sometime.”
You stare at him for a few seconds, frozen. Like, actually convinced the air in your lungs has turned to ice, frozen. Your eyes probably look like they’re about to burst out of your head, your mouth stuck in a dumb O-shape as you search frantically for the words to form a reply.
He smiles awkwardly. Watches as you blink straight back at him.
“I…” you manage, after what feels like fucking hours. “…That’s – so nice, Daniel, I – really – I’m flattered. Um…”
He interrupts, and it’s like a cold flannel on an acid burn. “Oh, Jesus. I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry.”
“No,” you shake your head, suddenly animated, “no, listen. It’s – you’re –”
Daniel’s still apologizing. “Are you – sorry, I don’t mean to assume – are you and – you and Joel…?”
His head jerks. One eyebrow cocked. His fingers press into the table, making counter-rotating circles across the gleaming surface.
You stare from his hands to his face, open-mouthed. “N-no,” you tell him, with a single shake of your head. And then you realize he’s being serious. “No, no, we’re not – no, absolutely not. We’re just – friends.”
“Right,” he says, brows knitting. “It’s just – the guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time I’ve been sat here, so I just figured…maybe…”
You follow Daniel’s gaze across to the bar again, where Joel’s still standing, this time with Drew at his side. He’s mouthing Yeah, in reply to whatever Steve’s gabbing about, but not fucking listening to a word of it.
“No,” you say again, looking Joel dead in the eye. “We’re just friends.”
You turn to look back at the slick-haired man by your side, and he nods.
“But, uh,” you look into your glass, the ice suddenly more interesting than Daniel’s hopeful expression, “you’re a really nice guy, and I appreciate you asking, but I’m…not…exactly looking for anything right now. I’m – yeah.”
“Right – no, absolutely,” he says again, flustered. His fingers wrap tight around his glass and he shifts as if to stand. “That’s absolutely fine. I just thought I’d ask, y’know?”
He laughs nervously. You feel kinda guilty. He’s being so decent about it, and he means well, but you really just wish he would…fuck off.
He isn’t given the option.
Drew comes bounding over like a golden retriever and leans in to Daniel, another freshly poured pint swinging in his fist. “You’ve improved your game, Gilbert,” he sings in your suitor’s ear. “Must be years since the last time you scored an eagle!”
Daniel copies Drew’s guffawing, nodding along. He opens his mouth to say something, but Drew jumps ahead, offering to buy him a drink to celebrate.
“C’mon, my treat,” the blond tells him, and swaggers off towards the bar, a vice grip on the blue polo shirt.
The shadow of Joel slips around your back as soon as the two figures are out of view. He brushes against your shoulders and nudges his stool nearer to yours with his foot, before sitting back into it with a sigh.
You stare at him, smirking behind your hand, elbow resting on the arm of your chair. He catches your eye and watches you for a few seconds.
Sorry, he mouths eventually, and sneaks a hand onto your thigh.
You lean into him, feeling the weight of Daniel and his proposal and his fucking Italian restaurant fall like insignificant grains off sand off your shoulders. You trace a finger along the shape of Joel’s knuckles. “I feel bad,” you whisper.
“The hell for?” his voice asks, a deep rumble by your temple.
You shrug, looking up at him. “He’s a nice guy. He asked me on a date.”
“And did you want to go?”
Your face pulls into a wince, lips flinching. “Not really.”
“Then what’d I tell you about doin’ stuff you don’t want to?”
You don’t reply. Your mind sails back to that boat ride in Paris, when he basically told you off for feeling guilty about rejecting a fucking marriage proposal, never mind a downtown dinner. It doesn’t bear thinking about what fantastic rant he’s currently bottling up where Daniel’s feelings are concerned.
Joel’s a no-nonsense guy, you know this. Known it for as long as you’ve known him. He’s rational, he’s pragmatic. He says what he thinks, and you deal with however you feel about it. He doesn’t waste time making anyone feel better with lies or cushion-soft landings. His yes is yes and his no is no. And sure, maybe there’s something in there that you’d do well to adopt, too.
But there are inconsistencies to him that you can’t work out – yet. Something that makes him break his rules. He still hasn’t shared whatever the hell Jean-Marc said to him that made him sweep you off of that terrace minutes later. He won’t admit why he keeps dragging you along to these so-called ‘work’ events.
Part of you wants to break him open, chip away at him like the sculptures in the Louvre until his beating heart is in your hands, the rhythmic pulses sharing secrets like it’s speaking in Morse code.
And part of you – bigger, stronger, wiser – hopes you never get close.
When you come back to the room, sound of glasses clinking and men’s roaring laughter washing away any thoughts of jilted boyfriends or lonely golfers, Joel lowers his head to look you in the eye.
“You wanna go?”
You nod, scrunching your nose. “That okay?”
He leans in close, as close as he reckons he can get without drawing attention, and smiles softly. “You coulda asked to go home the minute we pulled up ‘n it woulda been okay. Let’s go.” And he takes your hand.
Drew’s slung over the shoulders of some argyle-patterned men who you’re sure have spent more time drinking than they have actually on the course. He’s lifting his glass, about to toast to life, or love, or fucking golf, when Joel sneaks by behind him, never letting go of your hand.
The Rolls Royce is sat in park at the bottom of the stone steps, hazard lights blinking. Joel holds the door open as you hop in under the twinkling ceiling.
“Well?” Rand asks, looking in the mirror. You respond with a toss of your head, squinting. “Did you keep your feet straight like I taught you?” he demands.
“Honestly, I was more focused on making sure I hit the ball, Rand.”
He snorts. “Office, Joel?”
“Office, Rand.”
As the partition closes, Joel’s hand comes up to cup the back of your head. You lean into it, tilting to look at him properly through eyes glazed with tiredness, alcohol, relief to be back in only his company.
And he’s staring back, eyes flitting from yours down to your mouth when you speak.
“Did you…did you send Drew over to get Daniel away from me?”
Joel’s eyes stay fixed on your lips. “You didn’t want me to do that?”
You ignore him. You want him to answer your question. “Did you?”
And then he looks up. Searches your eyes for a second, and then says, “Yeah.”
Your stare falls down into his lap. To his closed fist, resting on his thigh. His fingers are stroking the back of your head in lulling movements. You focus on the shine of his watch. And horror sets in.
“You wanted him to stay?” Joel asks, bringing you up for air for half a second.
You’re quiet when you reply. “…No. I didn’t want him anywhere near me.”
And that’s somehow scarier. That you didn’t want this decent, attractive-enough man around you. That the entire time he sat nipping your ear, your eyes, your hands, your heart was searching all over the room for Joel. Listening for the twang of his voice, looking for him out of your peripheral. Counting every second until he sauntered back to your side.
It’s rolling. The feeling. Like a snowball gaining speed down a mountain. Starts off a twinge, a plucking somewhere buried deep in your heart, and turns and turns and turns until it’s a weight behind your ribcage. Unable to burst free.
You take Joel’s wrist and move his hand to the curve of your thigh, then lock your fingers between his. He lets you. You lift your free hand to the cut of his jawline, training your fingers down his bristled beard, and he lets you do that, too. And when you pull his face down to meet yours, lips warm and wet and starving, he opens his mouth and slips his tongue past your teeth.
Your hands are knotting in his hair. You’re leaning back, trying to pull him down on top of you, but he’s stronger. His hands take a strong grip of your waist and hoist you over the center console and into his lap, your knees pressing into the soft leather either side of his hips.
“You gonna tell me what you’re up to, pretty girl?” he asks, tipping his head back. His shirt smells like his cologne. Fresh, sharp, clean. It sends your head spinning.
Your lips find his jawline and nip kisses and bites along the sharp ridge. He tastes like whiskey, tastes like the sun, tastes like he did four days ago. Sweet and smoky and laced with something intoxicating.
Joel sighs. His hands knead into your hips, and he pushes you down, grinding you into his body.
He’s hard. Already.
“Feels like you already know,” you mutter, still peppering his neck with kisses.
He laughs the cocky way he always does when you’re on this road, heading this way. His hands find your hair again and he pulls your head back, drawing a whine from your lips.
“You gonna take it like a good girl? Take daddy’s cock?”
“Mhm,” you mewl, rubbing your damp panties over the bulge in his pants.
Joel unzips his trousers and shifts the waistband loose. You move his hands and peel back the top of his boxers yourself, and he watches from under heavy lids as you take him in both hands.
“That’s – my girl,” he chokes, eyes following your pumping fists. His head tips back with a quiet groan.
You push yourself up, shuffle nearer to him until your cunt hovers over his cock, and pull your panties to the side. You’re fucking soaked, already wet enough that Joel’s thick head catches on the cusp of your entrance as you line him up, stealing a gasp from your lips.
You sink, slowly, letting him push through into your sex inch by inch, feeling yourself pull open around him. Your brows furrow, jaw falls wide at the white-hot feeling between your legs, and you look up to see your expression reflected in Joel’s.
His hands clutch at your hips. “So – fucking – tight,” he hums, eyes rolling.
You lock your knees and begin bouncing, resting your hands on top of Joel’s. You’re steadily picking up pace, each nudge of his tip against the edge of your pussy sending another spasm of stars across your quickly-blinding vision.
“Off,” Joel mumbles against your lips, fingers pinching the fabric of your shirt.
“Huh?” you ask back, looking down to where he’s already peeling it up your torso.
“Just the skirt,” he pants, desperate, “nothin’ else.”
You lift your arms and let him pull the polo from your body, tossing it onto the carpeted floor. Joel unhooks your bra and pulls the lace down, before he’s angling his hips up again, hitting you somewhere deep enough inside to steal the breath from your lungs.
And then his lips are on your naked chest, sinking into the valley between your breasts, kissing over to your nipple. His tongue flicks over and over until the bud is pointed, enough to take it between his lips and graze over it with his teeth.
Your thighs are burning. Your skirt sits bunched up on your hips, only just covering your ass as Joel’s hands press into the supple skin, lifting you effortlessly up and down. You melt into his touch, let him do the work for a few seconds as he sits back in his seat to watch your body on his.
“My good – girl,” he groans, voice thick with arousal. “You know how pretty you look right now?”
You hook your hand around his neck, draw him in a little nearer. Shake your head with a filthy smile on your lips. “Tell me.”
Joel laughs shakily. “Wanna – fuckin’ – show you off to everyone, babygirl.”
He’s kissing you slowly, his tongue pressed to yours, when you pull back and separate your lips. He’s planted a seed in your mind.
Joel’s hips stop moving immediately. “Y’okay?” he asks, light hand on the side of your head, keeping your eyes on him.
You nod, breathing heavy. “Mhm.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, “just…”
You look down to your skirt, your bare thighs spread over Joel’s lap. The thought flips over and over in your head, unsure if it’s brave enough to trot down to your lips and show itself to Joel.
“Baby?”
It’s Joel, though. Same guy who bent you over his desk, same guy who fucked you senseless feet away from his flight attendants. Same guy who, a few days ago, you were in this exact position with: writhing in next to nothing on his lap.
Fuck it. Right?
“…want him to watch,” you say, in a small voice.
Joel’s expression doesn’t change, save for the way his eyes narrow. “Want who to watch?”
You look at him a beat longer, and it sinks in. He gets it.
“Yeah, babygirl? That what you want?”
“Mhm,” you reply, shifting with him when he starts moving his hips again. The car moves forward, pushing you closer into him. “Want him to – watch you fuck me.”
“Dirty girl. You want him to watch you cum for daddy, pretty girl?”
“Ye-ah,” you moan, Joel’s hands now pushing your waist down, the stretch of his cock deep inside you almost burning with pleasure.
“Yeah, you do,” he whispers, watching as your face pulls and your brows knit together.
“Only cum for you, daddy,” you whimper.
“I know, darlin’, I know. Close your eyes.”
By this point, Joel’s assured tone, his strong hands on your hips, his fucking length buried inside you, are enough to convince you. You just do as you’re fucking told – as soon as you’re fucking told.
Your eyes flutter closed, and you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder and feeling him turn, his lips pressed close to your ear.
“Good girl. He there?”
The image of Daniel flits across your vision, bright blue eyes trained on you. He looks…intrigued, and stunned. He’s not breaking his stare.
“Mhm,” you say again, and start to lift off of Joel.
“He watching?”
“Y-eah,” you choke out, bouncing steadily.
“Put on a show for ‘im, pretty girl. Show him what you do for me.”
You focus on the feeling of Joel, cock fucking deep into you, nuzzling against your walls and splitting you open; the sound of his voice in your ear, gently encouraging, sweetly reassuring; the smell of him, the taste of him, the heat from his skin, and…the sight of the steel-blue stare behind your eyes. The tight polo shirt. The round biceps. Watching you.
Watching you be fucked by someone else. Watching you come undone for someone else. For the same guy whose stare he couldn’t shake while he so much as talked to you. Watching your face as it twists in filthy pleasure; listening to you make sounds, whisper words, whisper daddy in the ear of your fucking boss; have him whisper words back that make your cunt tighten around him and push the image of Daniel two steps back with shock.
“Tell me again, angel.” Joel’s voice starts to swipe Daniel away.
Your eyes peel open, the backseat of the Rolls a blur as you roll your head back. “What, daddy?” you whimper.
His hand takes your jaw, holds you in line with his own. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
You breathe a laugh. It pulls across your mouth two seconds later. “M-me.”
Joel mirrors your grin. His hips buck once. You cry out. “Yeah?”
“Uhuh,” you yelp, getting louder as he snaps up into you deeper, faster, harder.
You’re drawing around him, warm and wet, feeling him deep in your stomach as your movements become sloppy and staggered. Pleasure swirls like a whirlpool between your legs, tightening, tightening, tightening.
Joel’s face sharpens into your vision. His eyes are fixed on yours. You watch his lips shape the words good girl, before he pulls your foreheads together, noses flush against one another.
“’n who fucks it like this?” he asks into your mouth.
You take a deep breath, inhaling his question, and let a satisfied exhale carry your answer back out.
“Just y-you, daddy.”
And you both fall.
You rock back and forth as the feeling drowns you both; open-mouthed, silently screaming, eyes trained on one another as you ride out your high together.
You throw your head back, eyes losing focus just inches under the stars until they blur into little white halos. Your arms lift up to lean against the tiny dotted lights, steadying yourself.
Joel’s hands clamp around your waist, holding you down on his cock as he shoots hot ropes of cum deep inside you, mixing with your own and filling you up. Your name escapes his lips hand in hand with a deep, throaty moan.
You body aches. Your cunt throbs around him, still humming with pleasure as your body curls again, falling forward until your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. His hands run up and down your spine, lips press featherlight kisses to your ear, shhing, whispering praise, bringing you slowly back into the car with him.
“Daddy…” you whisper into the soft cotton of his shirt, and you feel the weight of his cheek on your head.
His hands cup your cheeks and he lifts your face until you’re staring at one another. Your eyes are tired, you can hardly keep them open, but Joel holds you upright.
“We gotta stop this,” he whispers, and your foreheads fall together again as you laugh. “I’m gettin’ too old for it, baby.”
He’s still buried deep inside, slowly softening, but you don’t want him to go. Not yet. He reaches for your bra, helps you slip it back on, and you bend back to take your shirt in two fingers.
When you’re dressed, you sink back into him.
Joel laughs, brushing the wisps of your hair disturbed by pulling your shirt over your head. “That what you were thinkin’ about? While he was talkin’ to you?”
You smile lazily. Shake your head no. “Was thinking…about you taking me to the Italian he was talking about.”
Joel’s smile grows bigger. Biggest you think you’ve ever seen him smile before. It breaks into a laugh, a toothy chuckle, and then he kisses you.
You melt into him, tongue and teeth crashing against one another. Joel’s open palms surf along your thighs, molding around your skin. He squeezes the dimpled skin on your hips between his fingers.
“Tonight work for you?” he asks, and you giggle.
“No,” you tell him, “I got Martha’s to-do list to work through.”
He nods knowingly, eyes closing. “You want a hand with it?”
You smirk. “Can we fool around in your office between items?”
His head tips back against the headrest with an obvious expression. “What do you think?”
The car slows to a stop and Rand’s knuckles rap against the glass of the partition. You slip off of Joel’s lap, fix yourselves quickly, and then amble off back to the top floor, still a little weak in the knees.
“Home time, Martha,” Joel calls almost as soon as the elevator doors pull open.
“Excuse me?” she yells back.
He laughs. “I’m lettin’ you go early. It ain’t fair that we get to go have our fun ‘n you’re stuck here ‘til five. Let us know what needs done, ‘n then you can get goin’.”
“Ain’t that chivalrous?” Martha beams, blinking at you.
You saunter by her with a smile and toss your bag under your desk. You spin around, brace yourself against the arms of your chair, and throw yourself back against the comfortable leather.
“So,” she announces, almost fucking skipping over to you with her trusty notepad back in her clutches. “I whittled it down to just six things, so it shouldn’t keep you much longer than five o’clock…”
You lift your brows and nod along.
“…as long as you don’t find anything to distract yourselves with, that is.”
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msgexymunson · 2 years
Text
A Bit of Skirt
Dom!Eddie x Sub!Fem!Reader
Description: if you knew all it took to get Eddie's attention was a short skirt, you might have tried it sooner!
Warnings: NSFW, angsty/sexual tension/SMUT, minors DNI or you shall face my wrath, PRAISE KINK, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader in 20s but not specifically mentioned, slight drug use, f!oral receiving, p in v protected sex
A/N: I still don't know if I like this, I'm not entirely happy with it but hey ho. It's been sitting in my WIPs forever. Any comments or reblogs are appreciated. Also I just want Eddie Munson to say 'that's my girl' to me and I will die a happy woman
4.5k words
Masterlist
Walking up the couple of steps to the front door of the trailer, you pause at the top to compose yourself.
It's just a pick up you say to yourself, nothing you haven't done before, wondering who you are trying to convince. You weren't just picking up weed, you were picking it up from Eddie Munson.
It still sounded weird, even now you'd done it maybe a dozen times. Eddie 'the Freak' Munson, all leather and denim, who you quickly came to realise was not a freak at all. He was, well, goofy, and kind, all fluff, and then all of a sudden you would be lost in those soulful brown eyes and the ground would seem to drop out from under you. 
You smooth down the front of your tartan skirt, tugging at the hem slightly. It was a couple inches or so above your knee. You were thinking you probably shouldn't have dressed up just for Eddie, I mean you were buying weed for Christs sake not going on a date. Now that was a thought. You clear your throat, trying to cough the image away and knock on the door.
The door opens and a gruff face appears, Eddie's uncle, who looks at you expectantly.
"Er, hi, here to see Eddie?" 
"Hey you" he grins at you.
"Of course miss, he's in his room, go on through" he gives you a kind look and a nod, moving out of your way to let you in.
You walk through the living space a little shakily and reach Eddie's door. About to rap on the door with your knuckles, you hear a muffled but unmistakable 'sweetheart' which freezes and boils you at the same time. Does he have a girl in there?? But why would his uncle just let you through? You fumble with the handle and the door flies open, your nervousness taken over with some strange force, the blood rushing to your face, and, and.... there he is, sitting crossed legged on his bed holding his guitar. Of course...
"Hey. I-I thought you had a girl in here" you stumble out and why the fuck did you say that out loud!
"Oh, is that why you busted in here like the FBI?" He laughed "besides, I do".
Your brow furrows, and he laughs, planting a kiss on the neck of his guitar. He leans to hang it, sorry her, back in pride of place on his wall. You smirk, but you cant help but feel a pang in the pit of your stomach. I wish he'd kiss me like that. Now come on, you really jealous of a guitar?
He whips his head around to face you, a wide smile slowly spreading over his face.
"Baby you come here often?" He jokes, grinning devilishly at you.
You smile back "probably more than a good girl should" quipping back at him, fluttering your eyelashes. Always the flirt you think, as he laughs, raising his eyebrows at you.
His eyes dart down, seemingly for the first time, and he looks up at you with a serious face. You pause too, looking into those eyes of his, wondering what his next move will be, very aware of the hem of your skirt which had been locked in his vision. The pause seems to stretch on a little too long, so long you feel awkward and hot. You start to move forward when suddenly he leaps up off the bed, standing right in front of you. He's so close, you feel his breath and smell his cologne, as he looks down at you.
"You wear that just for me princess?"
"No" you say, just a little too breathy, a little too quick. He raises an eyebrow at you, as he gently puts his hand out, and reaches to shut the door behind you, then moves over to his desk. Of course the fucking door, that's why he jumped up. You feel dumb, redness reaching the tips of your ears.
"So, the usual milady?" He asks, his back to you, fumbling around his desk, scattering a couple of the tapes that litter it in the process.
"Er yeah sure, should keep me going" you reply, trying not to stare at his ass as he bends down to locate his stash, his Hellfire t shirt riding up a little in the process.
"Aha, that's where you're hiding" he exclaims, opening a drawer and pulling out a battered tin. He sits at his desk and turns his head to you, gesturing for to you to join him. You move over to the desk, hovering near, when he pats his knee and cocks his head at you, like it's the most normal thing in the world.
Taken by surprise, you perch ever so lightly on his thigh, feeling the blood rush downwards to your mound as you feel the slight pressure in your most sensitive area. Jesus Christ you are sitting on his knee not his face. Woah didn't need that image either. Pursing your lips you try to push it to the back of your head, for later.
You realise you've zoned out for like a full minute and turn your head to see Eddie staring straight back at you, looking amused, a curious smirk on his face.
"Somethin' on your mind, sweetheart?" He asks lowly, those intense eyes reading your thoughts, or at least the look on your face.
You manage to say "No, nothing important, just thinking I could use a joint" Trying to pass it off as breezily as you can muster.
He looks at you a little too long, fingers tapping the tin he put on the desk, then reaches his arm around you to so he can open it, encircling you in his arms for a moment. The hairs on your neck stand up. He pulls out a bag and shakes it.
"This right here, this will definitely calm you down"
Oh my God is it that obvious that I need to calm down?
"Great, 20 yeah?" You say as you shuffle slightly trying to reach the pocket in your skirt. You find the bill and pull it out, motioning for him to take it, but he doesn't. He holds you gently by the wrist.
"You know you could always buy more at a time, I don't mind, might even give you a discount for that skirt of yours" he winks and grins, then takes the 20 from your hand.
"You trying to see me less huh?" You respond, eyes flicking just for a second to that perfect mouth of his, and back up.
He pouts at you dramatically, mock sadness in his puppy dog eyes, and you feel some resolve crumble within you. Damn you Munson, right now I'd do anything you asked.
"Now why would you go and say a thing like that, hurtin' my feelings and all, me trying to be a gentleman"
"Oh yeah, Mr Gentleman, what's all this about then??" You motion your arms to the way you were sitting.
"Now now princess, you're the one who sat down"
Speechless, you open your mouth and close it. He had a point. You see a flash of triumph on his face, then he looks back to the desk and says "right, scoot over a little, I'll roll one for us" and reaches to pull out his own stash.
You shuffle slightly closer and he moves underneath you, his arm reaching around you again to pull out the papers. He's acting like this is so normal. His arms are close around you now, busy rolling, using his fingers so dexterously that it makes you wonder what else he can do with them. His chin is resting on your shoulder, looking over in concentration, tongue slightly poking out to the side his mouth, and that just pushes you even further. You feel a pulse, deep inside, a growing wetness in your pussy. You squirm a little, and realise your skirts riding higher up your thigh.
"Easy princess, nearly done, keep still" he says out the side of his mouth, and all of a sudden you realise you can feel a swelling growing underneath you, dangerously close to your sex.
Your mind starts racing, images flashing across your brain, stuff that you wouldn't let yourself think about before. You feel like you're blushing all the way to the roots of your hair.
"Would you lick it?"
"What??" You say loudly, his words shocking you out of your daydream.
He laughs, snorting a little.
"The joint, I cant reach it baby."
The glow in your cheeks intensifies, as you bend forward a little to lick the paper, and lean back. You realise too late that you've adjusted your position and sit back right onto his hardness, making him gasp just a little.
"You, er, you OK there princess? Or do you wanna get up?"
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK
You could just move. You could thank him and leave, right now. But you don't move, you daren't. You realise you're holding your breath.
"I'm just fine right here" you manage to say, the words nearly stuck in your throat. You can feel his gaze on you, as you look at him out the corner of your eye, barely daring to see him, his face wearing that signature Eddie grin. You lean back into him, your back flush to his torso, your skirt riding up even higher, and Eddie's eyes widen. He turns his face to you, raises his hand with the unlit joint dangling from his fingers and places it delicately in your mouth, reaching over with the other with a lighter.
On Eddie's bedroom door and you jump near out of your skin, thighs bashing into the desk, joint flying out your mouth. Eddie bounces beneath you slightly and puts his large hands on your hips to steady you as you go to get up. "Stay there baby" he mouths at you.
"Eddie I'm headin' out" you hear muffled through the bedroom door.
"Okay, bring home the big bucks" Eddie yells over his shoulder.
"You kids have fun" his uncle shouts back and you hear retreating footsteps, and eventually the sound of the front door.
"Jesus you scared the hell out of me princess" Eddie laughs as the tension in the room dissipates.
"You're scared, damn near thought I'd wet myself!" You say, your heart still racing, trying to slow your breathing down.
"Well now that's sight" he says, his eyes moving all over your body, drinking you all in. You realise your mouth is open, and you're cheeks feel even redder than before. You stand up and he looks down at you, head to one side, smiling.
You jump again, and stand up this time, taking him by surprise "the joint!" You exclaim, getting on your hands and knees to find it, hoping it wasn't lit. Eddie stares at you, biting his bottom lip, as you look up at him.
"Its, it's right here" he grins at you, pointing to the joint that landed on the desk. You look over, seeing that it wasn't lit, and realise that you are down on your hands and knees in front of Eddie Munson.
"So cute when you blush."
You seem to have forgotten how to form words, staring at that face of his, not sure what to do. He senses your hesitation, and gets up, moving to sit at the end of his bed, patting the space next to him. You sit, obediently. He lights the joint, and puts it to your lips. You take a long toke, hold your breath for a moment, holding the smoke in, then breathe out deeply.
"That's my girl."
You feel a stirring in your core at that, a heat between your thighs and fuck he's not even touched you. He leans back a little on an elbow, taking a few drags on the joint, then passes it to you. You take it with a trembling hand and smoke some more, feeling that familiar rush and a slight calmness wash over you, leaning back, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. You both stay there for a moment, not saying anything, passing the joint back and forth until Eddie sits up and says "So, now are you going to say what's on your mind or am I gonna have to ask again?"
"I.. Eddie.."
"That's my name sweetheart"
"I..." you don't know where to begin, what to say. That you've been thinking about him more and more? That you've had dreams about him, waking up with the sheets tangled at your ankles and your hand on your clit? That he's fogging up your mind right now so all you can think about is this gnawing need inside you?
You sit up to meet him but you cant quite meet his gaze, looking down at your fingers twisting in your lap. He reaches over, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, moving your head, holding you there so you have to stare into those brown eyes that look into your soul.
"Eddie..."
You lean forward, drawn to him, and finally press your lips against his, hard. He seems shocked by the force of your kiss but pushes right back, running his hand through your hair. You open your mouth to him and let his tongue and yours touch, exploring each others mouths desperately.
His hand runs down your back, sending a shiver down your spine, resting on your hip. Reaching out you wrap your arms around him, pushing your two bodies together, a moan rising in your throat. You move apart to catch a breath, both of you panting. Staring at each other.
"Well I'm glad I was right" he says breathily. Your brow furrows. He continues "No way anyone would wear a skirt like that for no reason. Thought I'd shoot my shot" and he kisses you again hard whilst you giggle into his mouth. You both lose yourselves in the kiss, that need is still there but its softer, deeper, electrifying.
He breaks away. You're panting and looking at him wondering why, and he looks down to his hand that's now resting on your thigh.
"May I?" He looks at you with a serious face, and you nod and hum back to him.
"I'm gonna need to hear you say it. Use your words princess."
"Yes, please" you say heavily, biting your bottom lip.
He smirks a little, and moves his hand onto your inner thigh, oh so close to where you want him, stroking that sensitive skin nearby that makes you quiver with anticipation.
"What do you want me to do princess?" Eddie asks slowly, fingers trailing circles on your thighs. Of course you think to yourself, Eddie and his words, the flirting, that's basically foreplay for him you finally realise.
"I... want you to... stroke me down there with your fingers" you whisper at him, feeling a little embarrassed. Eddie breathes deep, brows raised, looking at you with pride almost.
"That's my good girl" he whispers back and runs his hand between your legs, rubbing up and down over your thin underwear, already wet from your juices. His warm, rough fingers feel so good, and the occasional cool graze of a ring makes you wild. You gasp at the touch and a deep moan escapes your lips.
"Easy sweetheart... Jesus you're so wet.. all this for me baby?"
He runs his fingers right up to your clit, the thin cotton of your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his touch, and lazily traces circles around it.
"Can I take these off" he says to you, running his finger round the hem of your underwear.
"Oh God yes, Eddie, all for you" you moan.
He chuckles, enjoying the affect he's having on you, and planting kisses on your neck and  collarbone, only adding fuel to your fire.
"Eddie right now you can do whatever the fuck you want to me" you groan.
This spurs him on, he pushes himself onto you, planting kisses and bites over your neck, pushing you flat on your back.
"Princess... fuck that was hot"
Eddie gets up, confusing you for a second, standing over you, and staring at you laying on your back, your knees dangling over the end of the bed, hot and breathless.
"Take off your top"
You comply, exposing your breasts. He seems thrilled you're not wearing a bra.
"Wow, pretty as a picture" he grins impishly at you, his face flushing.
You move to undo your skirt when he reaches out to stop you.
"No, you're leaving that on, " he beams at you wickedly and lifts up the skirt, staring at your soaked panties.
"You're beautiful" he presses his lips together, still smirking, like he can't believe his luck, and kneels down, pulling your underwear down to your ankles and discarding them on the floor.
You feel cool air between your legs, and your legs being lifted over Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie's breath on your cunt, and you're lying there expectantly, butterflies in your stomach. You look down. Eddie is staring at you, smiling that smile.
"I need to hear it princess"
"Oh Eddie, p-please.."
"Please what...?" He's enjoying this far too much.
"Fuck me with your tongue Eddie."
A soft moan escapes his mouth.
"Jesus princess, are you even real?"
And with that he runs his tongue down your slit, starting to lap at you, licking with the flat of his tongue. You whimper, shaking like a leaf. He moves his tongue around in circles, pushing inside you, and you arch your back in pleasure. The feeling seems to reach the tips of your toes, your legs start to shake, fiercely fighting the urge to clamp your thighs around his head. He laps at your clit, running his tongue in thrilling patterns all over your sex, incredible, impossible feelings mounting in you.
"Oh God yes Eddie!" You groan, biting into your hand.
"Is that good sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you want"
All embarrassment has dissolved, there is only you, and him, and this astounding heat growing inside of you wanting to burst out, carnal desire ready to explode.
"Eddie, please, lick my clit and fuck me with your fingers."
"Mmph" Eddie moans "since you asked so nice princess."
Eddie's tongue, lapping at your clit, sucking that cluster of nerves. You don't know how long you can hold on, wanting this feeling to last forever. He slips a finger into your cunt easily, right up to the ring. You nearly scream, biting into the flesh of your hand to muffle it.
"Baby, don't worry, let it out" he says, breathing the words onto you, and sticks another finger in, gliding in and curling round, hitting that perfect spot with such ease, it's like he's done this to you before. You do scream them, you scream his name out into the world, not caring who hears. He grins into your pussy, building up pace, his fingers fucking you, his tongue running circles around your clit, and you can't take it any more.
"Eddie, fuck I'm gonna cum"
"Then do it, cum for me princess, there's a good girl. I want to hear you."
His fingers move faster, curling into your g spot whilst you desperately grab onto the bed covers for some anchor, to keep some hold on reality, and you feel such blinding pleasure mounting up that it unleashes with force. You dissolve into your orgasm, screaming and babbling incoherently, tears welling in your eyes. You rock on Eddie's fingers, pushing with your pelvis, dragging the impossible feeling out as long as you can. Fireworks explode behind your eyes and juices squirt out of you, all over Eddie's hand and face. Finally you break and collapse, your back no longer arching, breathless and sweating and spent.
"Jesus fucking Christ Eddie Munson." You manage to gasp out still trying to settle your breathing, your hands grasping the roots of your own hair. Eddie laughs, grinning like an idiot, his head leaning on your thigh, looking up at you, your juices glistening on his face. He wipes his face, beaming at you.
"Was that ok princess?"
"Ok? Ok??" You squeal at him, grabbing one of his pillows and throwing it at him. He laughs again, louder, and stands up.
"Excuse me but this is really uncomfortable" and he undoes his belt and jeans, discarding them on the floor. You see the outline of his bulge in his boxers, straining to get free. You bite your lip and point at him.
"Take your top off" you say, echoing his previous words. He chuckles and obliges, you see his slender tattooed frame and suddenly taste blood in your mouth. You release your lip, realising you've bit so hard into it that you broke the skin.
Eddie climbs on top of you, kissing you on the neck, the cheek, the shoulder...
"Eddie..."
He then moves down, peppering kisses on your breasts, sucking gently at your nipples and it's your turn to grab his chin and make him look at you.
"Eddie!"
"What?" He puts his hands up in mock defence "You don't like it baby?"
"What about you Eddie..."
"Now you don't need to worry about me princess, this is all about you."
You grab his hair and bring his head up, kissing him on the mouth, holding his head with both hands, the words caught in your throat, pleading at him with your eyes.
"Eddie, please..."
"You're gonna have to spell it out for me" he grins again, revelling in your desperation.
You bring your lips to his ear. "I really want to feel you inside of me" you whisper.
Eddie groans, and nips at your earlobe.
"Was that so hard princess?"
He jumps up, and looks down at you once more.
"What, you wanna take a picture princess?" He smirks at you out the corner of his mouth, seeing you watching him.
"Fucking beautiful" he grins and unceremoniously pulls down his boxers, then turns to the side reaching in his night stand.
You get a full profile of Eddie Munson and now it's time for your eyes to widen. He's so big. You start to feel a little nervous, worried about the sheer girth of the thing, as he pulls out a condom and tears the wrapper off with his teeth. You watch him roll it down his impressive length, then spit in his hand and rub his cock a couple of times, turning to you.
"Jesus Eddie where have you been hiding that thing?" His face splits into a massive smile again.
"You can come around more often if you're gonna keep flattering me like that" he says as he climbs on top of you, putting his narrow hips between your legs, spreading your legs further apart. His cock is rubbing against you, the tip grazing the entrance to your soaking wet pussy. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at him. You're looking at his face just inches from yours. The bravado is gone, its just Eddie, and his eyes are soft.
"You still ok sweetheart?" He says softly, searching your eyes.
"Yes, it's just, it's been a while" you look up at him through your lashes.
He strokes your cheek. "Don't worry, we can stop any time. I've got you."
"I've got you, good girl, just relax" he says and you feel calmer, breathing in his scent. He pushes, agonisingly slow, into you, until there's nothing left to push. It hurts, but it's a good kind of hurt, you can feel that hot sensation building deep in your core as you gaze at each other.
You look up at him with doe eyes and nod.
He kisses you, deeply, sweetly, and starts slowly pushing inside of you. You both moan in each other mouths, you feel him stretching you and you whimper a little.
The pulse deep inside you is getting stronger,  you start rolling your hips into him. Eddie gasps, leaning on one hand, the other tangled in your hair, grinding, finding a rhythm with your hips.
"That's my girl, God you feel so tight, fucking incredible" he mutters into your hair "c'mere."
He pulls you upright, so his knees are together and you are straddling him, not once taking his eyes off you. You hitch the ridiculous skirt out of the way so it bunches up around your waist. At this angle he pushes even deeper inside you and you gasp sharply. He stops moving, but you grab him by his narrow hips and start riding him, rolling into him slowly, sucking the air through your teeth, letting out high pitched moans.
"That's, that's so good princess, hmmm" he groans low into your ear, and you feel his member starting to pulse inside you.
"Are you g-gonna come for me now baby?" You stammer softly into his ear.
He places one hand firmly grasping your skirt at the hip and rocks into you faster, muttering "not before you princess", before pushing his other palm into the small of your back, getting every inch of his length inside of you.
The sudden change of pace takes you by surprise as you cry out, every part of your body tingling, your senses pushed to the limit, and you squeeze his length hard inside you.
"Fuck, princess your gonna make me-"
"Isn't that the point" you smile smugly at him.
He raises his eyebrows at you, keeps the hand on your hip but raises the other, still rocking deeply into you, and puts his hand on your throat, squeezing ever so slightly at the sides. You feel his warm calloused hand, his cool rings biting into your flesh and it's too much to take.
"Not before you sweetheart" he says with that grin of his, and pushes into you hard, once, twice, three times, you hear the rip of fabric, and you scream out his name.
"Oh fuck, Jesus Eddie, ohgodohgodohgod!"
And your whole body feels it, all at once, your pussy on fire, the sweat dripping down your back, the silly skirts rough material, the hands on your throat, Eddie's rings, Eddie's fingers, Eddie's cock and you explode, screaming, eyes scrunched shut, back arching, tensing everything. It's too much for Eddie as he feels you, pushing him over the brink, grunting into your ear, pulling you close, finally releasing and both of you hold onto each other desperately, riding out the feeling, stretching this moment on for what seems like both forever and no time at all.
You're gripping each other, as he slides out of you. You start giggling then, you can't help it, laughing as Eddie stares at you with a confused smile.
"That bad huh?"
"Hell no, best I've had, like, ever" you say back, still laughing.
He beams at you, disposing of the condom in the trash.
"So what's so funny princess?" He raises an eyebrow at you.
"I think you owe me a new skirt Munson" you laugh and he looks down at the twisted, sweaty, ripped skirt as if remembering it for the first time.
"Oh, I'll buy one in every color" he laughs back, pulling you in for a kiss. 
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sebscore · 1 year
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hello! i’m the one who asked for fluff with rbr seb, i meant a one shot if that’s okay with you :)
i’m going to use 🌑
DRINK WATER, NOT ALCOHOL | SEB V.
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pairing: rbr!sebastian vettel x fem!reader
warnings: drunk seb. swearing.
author's note: thank you so much for requesting something for our beautiful princess that was rbr seb! I had fun writing this one so I hope you like how it turned out!! don't be shy and let me know what you think of it! also, if you get the title reference- you’re a legend and you should be my friend! 💞
masterlist
• • • • • • •
''Hey, what are you doing? Hey! Stop it!'' Sebastian drunkenly professed, pushing the unwanted arms away from his chest. ''I have a girlfriend, go away!''
''You're kidding, right?''
''It's not cool, just stop it!'' The Red Bull driver attempted to move away from the undesired touches. The person in front of him didn't seem to understand the man wanted to be left alone in his drunken state.
The countless refills of his beer must have done some serious damage to Sebastian's vision, because there was no reason for him to pry away from the person who found him almost sleeping on his friend's couch.
Sebastian hadn't been able to properly celebrate his second World Championship title with his friends from home. That's why one of his best mates had organized a party at his home to commemorate the driver's title defense.
Everyone was having a great time, especially the man of the hour. Y/N had seen her boyfriend drunk before, but this time it was quite a different sight. So when she saw him stumbling into one of the many rooms, she couldn't help but check up on him.
Upon walking into what seemed a ''man's cave'', she was met with a practically unconscious man, drool coming out the side of his mouth.
Y/N tried moving him into a more comfortable position as he almost fell on the cold floor. However, he protested and started pushing her away, claiming he had a girlfriend.
Sebastian didn't recognize her.
''You have a girlfriend, huh?''
He hummed at her words, a smile finding its way to his face. ''Yeah.''
''Tell me about her.'' Y/N smirked, sitting down on the ground next to him.
An unexpected snort left his mouth. ''Why do you want me to talk about her?'' But before Y/N could answer him, he proceeded. ''She's- she's so fucking hot.'' He grinned, his eyes still closed.
''She's just so- ugh, perfect. We first met when we were like 20 and it was before I was in F1 so she had no fucking idea who I was,'' he chuckled, ''but she smiled at me and I don't know what she thought of me, but I thought she was beautiful. I thought she looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.'' Sebastian smiled, almost in a dreaming state.
''I love her more than anything, I know I should tell her more- she's always there for me. That's why you can't kiss me, okay? It would hurt her and I don't want to do that. I would never want to do that, it would kill me.''
Y/N admiringly watched him, touched by the things he just told her. It was a given that Sebastian loved her, she would be an idiot not to see it. But when he said that it would kill him if he would hurt her, it hit different.
''Can you go find my girlfriend, please? I- I miss her.'' He stuttered out, making a lousy attempt to point at the door.
She tried greatly to not burst out in laughter, finding her boyfriend absolutely adorable. ''Yes, I'll go get her.'' Y/N got up from the floor, grinning to herself. She waited for a good ten seconds by the door before closing it with more force than usual.
The harsh sound made Sebastian flinch and he swiftly sat up, his hand on his chest as if he was clutching a necklace made out of pearls. ''Huh? Wha- what? Y/N? Oh, baby! I missed you so much!'' As soon as she saw him notice her, she quickly made her way over to him again. His arms found their way around her and he peppered kisses all over her face. ''You found me!''
''I did,'' she laughed, ''I'm gonna get you some water, alright? You've had enough drinks for a few weeks.''
Y/N made an advance to leave and get to the kitchen, but Sebastian firmly held her in his embrace. ''No~'' he whined, ''don't go! I don't want you to leave me!"
The woman got up despite his cute whining. ''I'll be back in a minute, loverboy. By the way, I won't give you a kiss until that alcohol-stinking mouth of yours has been washed.'' She ruffled his hair, dodging his last effort to get her to stay.
''Then get me some damn water!"
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mimicha-arts · 9 months
Text
I have not written fandom theories for a long time, but LInkClick fuels my interest and search for meaning too much. Recently, I reviewed all the available series, and came across details that I had not connected before. For the most part, this post is speculations about Cheng Xiaoshi, as well as ... timeline.
Spoilers! Please be careful.
Considering so many details about Cheng Xiaoshi, it seems that there has always been something strange about his "symbolism". In fact, I'm really into the theory that the moment in episode 1 of season 2 (when Lu Guang gets stabbed) is the vision & flashback of the past about Cheng Xiaoshi's death. In fact, it amazes and delights me how many details in OverThink support these thoughts. At least because once a frame flashes, which somewhat resembles a scene from Lu Guang's flashbacks.
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But there is more. We have 3 main points: clock, сlockwork and camera. 1. Clock - possible time of death Very specific time appear several times. The clock hands look very strange, still not 6, so probably the time is 5:20 (thus, given the symbolism of 520, I have even more questions). They show the same time in any frame.
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But the most interesting thing is that at the very end, when we see Cheng Xiaoshi (with the design from the first season), for a few seconds, in addition to the patterns of gears, a very faded inverted dial of this clock appears on him, where inverted 4 is the most visible part. No need to say that 4 is a symbol of death.
This can only be seen in 1s1s ED. Because, in fact, there are 2 versions of the ED, and it's different (without these details) for the remaining 10 episodes.
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Even the very first intro with characters contains very similar clock placed in the background of Cheng Xiaoshi. So, at this point, I'm guessing that this strange 5:20 was the key node and the death of Cheng Xiaoshi.
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2. Clockwork - сhanging a key event Gears are shown both literally and in pattern. For a long time, I thought that Lu Guang's shadow was just a shadow, or an indistinct noise, but if you look closely, it becomes obvious that Lu Guang is covering a pattern of gears - probably as a sign of changes with clock mechanism and time. Details such as water drops and film strips are also interesting, as both OP (Dive Back in Time and Vortex) connect these elements to Cheng Xiaoshi.
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One of the moments shows how the silhouette of hands (overlapping the trees, which may coincide with the background of the forest in the vision in s2s1) touches the inverted clock, after which the second hand of the clock begins to move back.
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And the most beautiful thing .. The fact that the hands belong to Lu Guang, as well as the context of this action, confirms that the animation literally coincides with the scene from the end of 4th (and the beginning of 5th) episodes, when Lu Guang explains to Cheng Xiaoshi how key events (nodes) and changes in the past work. But inverted. What a coincidence, right?
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Honestly, I think that all these details can further support the theories about Lu Guang, which already have enough speculation. Given all the hints, it is possible that due to Cheng Xiaoshi's death, he changed something in time, thus erasing the "future in that present" and created a new present as an alternate reality. Just a thought.
3. Camera - another timeline Let's go back to the very end again. Here Cheng Xiaoshi is holding a camera in his hands.
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Remember this diamond-shaped mark. This camera is very specific, as it has appeared several times, but not in the main series (yet). There is an easter egg in the mini-series, Lu Guang has a rather similar model, only with a round (clock-like) mark.
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It's importance becomes even more obvious, especially now that we have a poster for the second season.
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So. What's wrong with this camera? Because there are actually two of them. The one on the table has a rounded clock mark. But the camera in reflection is the one that Cheng Xiaoshi holds in the ED, with a diamond mark.
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For me... Seems like it is probably one of the main connecting elements or "anchor" between the timelines / alternate realities, at least conveys this idea. All this makes me feel excited and inspired, how it was possible to place all this so neatly. And which of these can really confirm conjectures and theories … Thanks to the scriptwriters and animators, it's nice to be a part of this game.
Or maybe I'm just overthinking… Anyway, thanks for reading to the end. Perhaps someone has their own thoughts, feel free to discuss ~
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gyu-effect · 4 months
Note
hi could u do a idol mingyu x idol yn where the public doesn’t know that they are dating but during awards they would be kinda obvious abt it
PAIRING || Mingyu x Female Reader
GENRES || Fluff
WARNINGS || none
WORD COUNT || 0.4k
A/N || i'm so sorry this is so short :'D but honestly my brain has stopped working because of how hectic and disappointing my life has been TT
TAGLIST || ​@romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]
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[19:20]
“oh, hi!”
you looked up from your seat to see your beloved boyfriend waving at you, as though he hadn’t just seen you a day ago.
“hi, gyu- mingyu.” you said with a small bow, trying not to smile too much on just seeing him. the last thing you needed was your relationship getting exposed, especially at an award show. 
“you look lovely. really, really lovely by the way.” he said, his eyes slipping into that soft smile that always had you melting. in fact, even now you could feel yourself involuntarily smiling, taking in his handsome features and just how good he looked in a suit- not now, y/n!
“you both are so lovesick, it physically hurts me sometimes.” seungkwan said nonchalantly, as he walked beside mingyu and sat down, looking at the two of you dryly.
immediately you felt heat rush up your cheeks as mingyu mirrored your embarrassment, quickly sitting down with his back to you. just your bad luck that seventeen had their seats in front of you.
the rest of the event passed as smoothly as it could, or so you thought, if it wasn’t for the fact you had your eyes on mingyu’s back all the time or the fact that he kept turning back to you every now and then to give a sweet smile which would then cause you to become flustered. 
but all your resolve seemed to break when you finally saw your boyfriend perform on the stage. you watched his performance with a wide open mouth, drinking in the incredibility of the stage like it was the first time you were seeing him perform.
finally when their performance was over, you felt a surge of pride rush through you, causing you to stand up and clap as loudly as you can, not caring even after the camera panned towards you to catch your enthusiastic reaction. because dispatch be damned, you were going to let your boyfriend and his group know how much you loved them and supported them.
as mingyu walked back to his seat, you beamed at him, clapping even more enthusiastically.
his eyes met yours and he smiled back, head tilting in an affectionate way. he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by wonwoo who shoved his shoulder slightly, pointing at the screen. “camera’s on both of you, losers.”
true to his words, you looked and found yourself and mingyu on the camera. how you had missed the fans screaming was beyond you but you just reasoned it with the fact that whenever mingyu was in your line of vision, everything else surrounding the two of you blurred away.
“we’re kind of obvious, aren’t we?” mingyu asked, sitting down in front of you again.
“kind of? you both are obvious.” minghao snorted. 
“then i guess we don’t really need to break the news to our fans, do we?”
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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gingiesworld · 8 months
Text
New Sheriff in Town
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Requested by @louxbloom
Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision
Warnings: Angst. Fluff.
18+ MINORS DNI
Wanda and Vision were high school sweethearts, everything seemed perfect until she fell pregnant before graduating. Vision proposed to her as soon as he found out which Wanda had said yes.
It all seemed fairytale like as the years went on, Wanda being the stay at home mom as Vision went to work with his uncle at Stark Industries to provide for his family. As much as Wanda loved being a mom to her sons, she hated being home alone. Living the same day, same routine over and over again.
As the years went on, Vision had started to treat Wanda as a maid and not his wife, the twins soon caught on and started to treat her the same as their father did. As much as it broke Wanda's heart, she couldn't leave. Even though her friend's Natasha and Agatha would tell her otherwise. She had an obligation to be there for her family. That is what she was taught the perfect wife was.
That was until Vision had handed her divorce papers as he packed his things. Leaving her to raise two teen boys as he moved in with the 20 year old twinkie in the city. The twins had blamed Wanda for him leaving and never really cut her any slack. Wanda would also find herself crying herself to sleep every night. Wondering at what point her life had took a turn.
But with two 15 year old boys, running amuck throughout Westview. Especially being just as entitled as their father, always causing noise and destruction wherever they go. Only to be yelled at by Wanda before the two would make her cry.
A new resident had moved in ane joined the local Sheriff's department. Well they were the new Sheriff. When they saw the two yelling at Wanda, blaming her for their father not wanting anything to do with them.
"Hey!" Their voice boomed, causing the three to look in their direction. "I suggest you boys show your mother some respect."
"What are you going to do about it?" Tommy sneered as the twins crossed their arms across their chests.
"If I catch you boys doing anything out of line, I can have you arrested." They told them sternly.
"What? You gonna call the police?" Billy teased as Tommy laughed. They sighed as they got their badge out.
"I am the new Sheriff so I suggest you start to respect your mom." They told the two sternly. "Also, if I catch either of you vandalising any property, that includes your mom's house, I will put you in handcuffs. Do you understand me?" The two just nodded before walking inside as Wanda approached Y/N.
"Thank you. I'm Wanda." She introduced herself.
"Y/N." They shook her hand. "Well it was nice to meet you but I have to get to the station." Wanda waved nervously as she watched them walk away.
As the time went on, Y/N had found Tommy drinking in the park. So they approached him with a soft smile on their face.
"Hey, you're Wanda's son right?" They questioned as Tommy just scoffed before having another big sip. "You know you can talk to me."
"About what?!" Tommy spat. "How my dad left us and we've blamed mom all the time for it. Especially seeing him with his new wife and kid."
"Listen, I understand how hard it can be to have a parent give up on you." They told him. "But your mom is still here. She is still looking after you and your brother. You just need to give her a chance. It isn't her fault your dad quit on you guys. That's all on him so please just cut her some slack. Talk with Billy too. She deserves better than the crap you two have given her."
"I'm sorry." Tommy cried as Y/N put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Save that apology for your mom and do it sober." They told him before standing up. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." That was the first time that Tommy had felt extremely bad for how he had treated his mom. He hated himself and he hated his dad.
Once Y/N had pulled up outside of the Maximoff residence, Wanda came running out, worry etched onto her features as Y/N helped Tommy out of the car.
"Is he ok?" She asked them as they helped him inside.
"He's just drunk." They told her when they lay him on the sofa to sleep. "He's going to have one killer headache in the morning."
"Thank you." Wanda told them sincerely as she walked them out.
"It's no problem. They have been served a bad hand. The three of you have." Y/N told her softly as she smiled. "I will help keep my eye on them outside of these walls but the rest is on you Maximoff." They told her as she nodded. Watching as they left once more, this time admiring their form in their uniform.
As the time went on, the twins were better than before with Wanda. Doing chores without being asked and even making her drinks.
"I honestly don't know what has happened but it feels like something out of a horror movie." She whispered to Nat as the two stood on the porch, watching the twins mow the lawn and wash the car.
"I know what you mean. It's kind of like an alien invasion." She replied as Wanda nodded. It wasn't until they saw Y/N doing their rounds. Wanda noted that they weren't in their uniform as they stopped and spoke with the twins. "Or maybe a new person has something to do with it." Nat soon noticed how Wanda was silent as she watched Y/N and the boys laugh about something. "You like them." Nat pointed out as Wanda snapped her head in her friend's direction.
"No." She laughed as Nat smirked.
"Yes you do." She told her. "It's ok to want to move on Wanda."
"I know that but the twins have just stopped hating me." She told her. "If I change something it could ruin it."
As the year went on, Wanda had organised a BBQ for the twins birthday. Inviting their friends and family, Y/N had come with some gifts for the twins. Tickets to see their favourite team play the next game. It wasn't until Vision walked inside like he still owned the house.
"Vision? What are you doing here?" Wanda questioned as Vision smirked.
"I came to wish my boys a happy birthday and give them their present." He said as he waved a set of keys in her face.
"Please leave." She spoke shakily as the twins soon noticed the commotion. Y/N's gaze followed theirs as they soon moved to Wanda.
"She said to leave." Tommy stated as he stood beside Wanda.
"You will speak to your father with respect." He spat at him angrily.
"When you see him, let me know." Tommy smirked as Billy held his mom as she cried. All of her anger, pain and sadness coming back ten fold. It was when Vision was about the back hand Tommy across the face Y/N had stepped in.
"I suggest you leave." They told him as they gripped his wrist tightly.
"Fuck you." Vision spat before taking a swing at Tommy with his other hand. Y/N getting in the way and receiving a jab to the jaw.
"I won't ask again." They snarled as they towered over him. "Leave now or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."
"Whatever." He snarled before turning on his heels and leaving the house. Y/N soon got on their phone to a locksmith.
"The locksmith is coming tomorrow." They told Wanda who soon wrapped her arms around them. They were shocked at the action but reciprocated the hug regardless.
"Thank you." Wanda whispered before she kissed their cheek. The party continuing as Vision had never came. The twins barely left Wanda's side as everyone soon started to leave.
"Y/N." Wanda called out before Y/N got into their car.
"Are you ok?" They asked her as she nodded, not expecting her to wrap her arms around their neck and kissed them passionately. Y/N sunk into the kiss as she deepened it. When she pulled away, they watched dumbfounded as she walked back inside. A smile on her lips.
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thatasadbitch · 1 year
Text
𓇽༆𓇽I Want U𓇽༆𓇽
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Neteyam Sully x Omatikayan oc/reader
Warning: light smut and Fluff, neteyam and reader are aged up
Wordcount: 1.8K
Charater: I use a name because it's easier for me to write but change it with yours or whatever you want, the character is female, daughter of two strong warriors of the Omatikaya clan, she herself is known for her dowry in battle.
( I accept requests if you have ideas I would love to hear them, I accept requests on Jake sully, Lo'Ak, neteyam, Kiri, Tsireya, aonung and Neytiri, all kinds of stories are welcome ;) write in private or in The comments 💙
and sorry for any grammatical errors but this is not my first language ♥♡
We had grown up in the Metkayina clan by now, I have a nice scar on my shoulder from the battle but I can say that I saved Nateyam from certain death.
Now I'm remembered as the strong warrior with the heart scar, I'm still not too used to the way of fighting of this water clan it doesn't come too natural to me even if according to Ronal and Tsireya I'm an excellent warrior also for this clan.
" how are you?" Tsireya asks gently looking at me from the water and leaning her elbows on the wooden bridge "Me? I don't know if I want to talk about it...Why don't we talk about you and Lo'Ak? Your love problems empty my mind" I say wallowing feet in the clear water next to her "ok...then it's pretty good apart from my mother doesn't agree too much on our relationship as always, she thinks Lo'Ak is reckless and that I should look for a serious man to mate with and marry" she snorts as she floats and looks at the sun kissing her skin " well I've been friends with the Sullies since I can remember and can confirm your mother's words Lo'Ak is reckless and reckless but he's a very good friend as well as I also think a great boyfriend, he's faithful, loyal and tremendously sweet and sensitive more than I want to admit and show" I say smiling softly to my friend "I don't know I wanted you know...to take the next step with him to connect, but my mother does not give me his blessing and not I feel like doing it behind her back I think she would kill me first and then the guilt "I look at her fake shocked" do you want to connect?! Know that after I want to know everything the first time is always crazy" I laugh and she splashes me with water giggling embarrassed " as if you two have never done " shrug " Neteyam and I joined our braids several times but we never we find ourselves too much in agreement on when to take the other step " she looks at me smiling " why don't we talk about you and Neteyam then ?" I roll my eyes and she giggles " I was going to kill him this morning about what Neteyam and I have different visions, he wants to recreate the stability of his family but I'm more of a solitary warrior than a mother of a family" I say throwing myself in the water with her "yes? " she giggles following me " I want to fight, it's my nature I was born for this I'm descended from generations of warriors but I know that sooner or later we should have children and I won't be able to be a warrior anymore like this... well I almost killed myself more than once i sometimes wonder why he chose me as his mate i'm so difficult and on the other hand i'm afraid to disappoint him i'm afraid i'm not worthy of neytiri as a yardstick she's crazy as a mother " she swims around me and laughs " but you want to take that step with him I can see it from your eyes, you two complement each other as Lo'ak and I complement each other, and if you want children you will do something else for a while, you will hunt and I could teach you something about a healer plus it doesn't mean that as soon as you do that you'll get pregnant you're 20 you have time for that you'll be a great mother because it's you you protected your own mate with your life you looked after Tuk and Kiri and thank God you kept an eye on Lo'Ak when or I can't, you're a bit grumpy it's true maybe you love being on your own, but believe me you would give your life for each of the people you care about and with them you change you are a mountain of sugar with them your eyes light up when you look after them to Tuk and when Nete shows you affection, you don't have to be Neytiri, you are you and clearly in everyone's eyes you will be a perfect mother and above all in Neteyam's eyes, he has chosen you as a mate because you are meant to be together and to be also parents together" I snort and go under the water " you know that taking care of isn't for me and yes I can't wait to do it with Nete and I thank you for those words I think they really help me these days, I love you Tsireya " I say with sign language hug her "Ali'iem you will think about it when it happens, continue with your normal life just take that step we all love you and we will be with you forever" we continue to swim and hunt together for a while and then I go back to the my tent with anc now the mind crowded with thoughts.
As I pull my wet hair back I see a red strand in my hair my eyes widen 'will this be a sign of Eywa?' "every day you are more and more beautiful you know that?" I feel Neteyam's delicate hand on my waist while his lips gently rest on my neck and I smile slightly " sorry if I was a bit stubborn and unreasonable with you earlier" I say, turning to look him in the eyes he smiles softly at me " we'll think about it if it happens right?" I smile back, infected by his , before giving me a kiss on the lips "sure" he replies "you know I think Tsireya and Lo'Ak will join for the first time it's a great thing for those two" he chuckles " it's an important step but Lo'Ak is completely crazy about Tsireya I knew he would get there and then she calms him down makes him think a little more and that's good for everyone" he giggles pulling his hair into a ponytail involuntarily showing me his muscles of his back tense, he turns his gaze catching mine passing over him "am I beautiful?" He asks teasing me "beautiful" I say giggling and he approaches me leaving me a few kisses on the corners of my mouth, I put my hands on his chest tracing the darkest signs with my fingers.
It's a moment that Neteyam hugs me more and finally he kisses me on the lips properly and I feel the need to connect with him " Nete..." I call him softly sighing Ali'iem ?" His pupils are wide and he looks at me softly but at the same time a shadow passes through his eyes, I gently stroke his face and I quickly reach his braid stroking it, he smiles and moves it to his shoulder holding it in his hand, I quickly do the same and bring my end closer to his connecting us, a moment of ecstasy that soon leads us to everything else, Neteyam rests his forehead on mine and squeezes my waist gently, I can feel he is holding back a lot he licks his lips, his breath is heavy and then he can't take it anymore and kisses my lips looking into my eyes "Nete let's do it..." I hiss through my teeth looking into his eyes "are you sure? " I nod letting him kiss me passionately, I have no more thoughts if not Neteyam.
He puts me on our 'bed' without ever detaching from me, our tails caress us and it's as if everything came from if we don't think too much concentrated on both our sensations and those of the other, I perceive his ecstasy, his love and his wish .
It doesn't take long that our intimacies are connected giving a feeling and sensations never experienced before, the slow but decisive movements of his pelvis make me feel an intense pressure in my lower abdomen, the deep and hoarse grunts of neteyam do nothing but increase this sensation that makes small noises of pure pleasure come out of my lips.
When his hands squeeze my thighs bringing them higher and resting them on his shoulders making me see the stars with a stronger push than the previous ones, my hands squeeze his back scratching him slightly.
The rhythm of his thrusts doesn't waver and I feel that feeling of pressure inside me about to burst "Nete...I..." I don't have time to say much because that pressure explodes completely making me scream nothing but his name which I he too says my name several times feeling my walls tighten around him, a feeling of burning heat floods me and then moments of silence where only the sound of our breaths makes noise in the air, I see him smiling above me looking at me with slightly tired eyes and a few drops of sweat on his forehead.
From a tender kiss on my leg before letting them both fall snugly around his slim waist, he kisses my lips multiple times before framing my entire face with soft comforting kisses, my legs still shaking.
We don't separate our braids nor our bodies but the guy above me switches positions letting me doze peacefully on his chest, while he watches me rest I hear the rumble of his purr on his chest which also starts mine letting him kiss his chest and her soft lips "hey…Ohe see ngenga and you are the best woman that could happen to me whatever happens I will always be with you" he says moving a strand of hair from my damp forehead, I smile at him tenderly "Ohe see ngenga too, and yes I think you won't get rid of me that easily either.” I rest my chin on his chest as I watch him already fantasizing about something I'll have the pleasure of discovering later.
𓇽༆𓇽
The next morning my legs were screaming in pain but this didn't relieve me of my duties, as always I met Tsireya taking a bath together " Ali'iem you are really slow this morning you won't take anything so" she will try again " Tsireya give me peace my legs they're screaming in pain "she whips her head towards me" you? You? Have you taken the step? You've mated tell me yes please I can't wait to see little puppies of the forest with your big emerald eyes " she takes my hands all too excited " yes yes we did but I don't know yet if I'm pregnant we'll just find out further on " she dives in and caresses my flat belly and I see her gesturing under the water a ' great mother make it a girl ' I giggle seeing her return to the surface " you are impossible you know ? Really embarrassing " she squirts me but whatever happens i can't keep a sincere smile off my face i have no more worries i just want to be with Neteyam forever " anyway me and Lo'ak bonded " i open my mouth in shock as she swims fast away from me“ COME HERE YOU MUST TELL ME EVERYTHING“.
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sunsetsimon · 4 months
Note
i’ve been lurking through your page for the past few days and i’m screaming, crying, kicking my feet at simon. ANYWAYS— i’ve had a scary interaction yesterday evening when i parked my car and a guy opened my door when i was gathering my things from the passenger seat.
i screamed, which made him flinch and i was able to close the door and lock myself in. he banged my window and kept on trying to talk to me until he finally left.
i had a full blown panic attack and it took my 20 minutes to gather enough courage to get out and run home.
what’s scarier is that i am four months along w/ my bsf’s baby (USE PROTECTION KIDS, ONE SILLY MISTAKE AND YOU LOSE YOUR BSF AND FEEL LIKE A WHALE) and i don’t have anyone to call/reach so…… now… i can only think of reader experiencing this, but being able to call simon and him just comforting her afterwards and coming to save her <3 ugh i need a simon in my life hahahah
anyways—— sorry if this was weird and a strange word vomit too, feel free to ignore!! stay safe 🫶🏼
— momanon 🧞‍♀️
HOLY FUCKING SHIT. i'm so glad you're okay ugh that's terrifying!!! and i hope you have the happiest and healthiest pregnancy ever <333 mwah!
simon is fucking fuming, he can't think of the last time he was this riled up, ready to split this guy down the middle. your hands are shaking as you call him, struggling to hold your phone up to your ear, voice trembling as you speak. the line goes silent, all you hear is quick shuffling of what you can only assume is simon grabbing his keys to come to you.
“what does he look like? which direction is he walking to? what is he wearing?” firing off question after question, picturing all the ways he can send this man to his maker. of course you’re shaken, thoughts twisted from pure shock and adrenaline.
“don’t fucking move,” he orders you, and you can hear the loud acceleration of his car, driving way over the speed limit, running stop signs, tunnel visioned on getting to you.
he’s there faster than you can really process, his energy completely different. simon’s demeanor is dark, intimidating, enough to pull you out of your shock. his eyes are scanning the parking lot, searching for anyone who fits the description of the man.
“are you okay?” he asks, opening your door to pull you into his arms.
he holds you against his chest, taking deep breaths to coax you into calming down, his chest rising and falling in tempo with yours. his warm hand rests on your tummy, rubbing lightly as if he was soothing the baby.
“yeah that was just… scary,” you say, observing the cars around you once more. it's you and simon, and a woman about your age walking down the rows of cars. keys and purse in hand, she quickly passes you and gets in a blue car parked a few spaces down. though she didn't give you a second glance, simon watched her like a hawk, brown eyes scanning for the man lurking around.
"m'never letting you go anywhere alone again. especially while carryin' my kid with you," he huffs as the woman shuts her car door, quickly backing out and leaving. you're gathering your things, filling your bag with everything that had spilled in your fright, flinging things around while locking the door.
simon guides you out of your car by your hand, holding his other arm out to help stabilize you if you need it. grabbing the bag from you, he kisses your forehead and walks on your heels the entire way. from then on, he keeps his promise of not allowing you to go anywhere alone, always by your side to protect you.
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awlumii · 2 years
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rain check.
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# — pairing: (spidey!)kazuha x gn!reader
# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha
# — warnings: n/a
# — summary: "i'm late, i'm late! for a very important date! no time to say 'hello, goodbye,' i'm late, i'm late, i'm late!" — white rabbit, alice in wonderland
# — tags: spidey!kazuha au, fluff, brief angst, making up, getting together, there's kisses involved, reader's also a simp (lol)
# — notes: [stands awkwardly in the corner] heyy... i tried my hand at the au again... as always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i really hope you enjoy this!
wanna join the tag list?
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✧ — 🍁 + 🕷 — ✧
the meeting time was 7:30 pm originally.
7:45 pm. the waitstaff asked you if you wanted to order anything. you politely declined and informed them that you'd order when your date arrived.
8:15 pm. you texted kazuha and got no response. you eventually grew impatient and reluctantly ordered food for yourself. your face burned at the looks of pity you received from the employees.
8:45 pm. you still didn't get a response from kazuha. you tried not to text him too frequently in fear of sounding clingy or belligerent, but after an hour or so of radio silence, you couldn't help but triple (or even quadruple) text him.
9:00 pm. you check your phone. still no response from kazuha.
9:15 pm. you figured that dessert wouldn't hurt, but it was hard to stomach what with the waitstaff watching you from afar. if you strained your ears, you could hear them whispering something about a customer being stood up and having to eat alone.
9:30 pm. you didn't eat the dessert.
9:45 pm. you asked for the check. they refused to give you one. they gave you their pity instead.
10:00 pm. you left.
10:05 pm. five minutes after you started walking home, there was a blinding flash of lightning. that was the only warning you received before the skies opened up.
the frigid rain seeps through your clothes and chills you to the bone. surprisingly, it's not as unpleasant as it sounds; you were starting to feel a little numb, anyway. quiet splashes echo from the sidewalk as you drag yourself home. people pass you by one after the other, each with umbrellas, but you pay them no mind. you continue on your way.
maybe you're being dramatic, but you feel like shit right now.
when kazuha first suggested going to such a nice restaurant, you were a little hesitant to agree. never mind your preferences — kazuha isn't one for lavish affairs. he's told you as much before. even if the place wasn't super pricey, the ambience seemed to be a bit too much for his tastes. it took some coaxing on his part — he said he wanted to ask you something important, which only served to make your stomach twist into knots — but in the end, he finally got you to say yes. (truthfully, you folded as soon as he took your hands in his — you really need to learn to say no to him.)
it wasn't until you were getting ready to leave that you realized that this was going to be your tenth date with kazuha. is that why he was so insistent on going somewhere nice? you thought it adorable that he seemed to be keeping track of the number of dates the two of you have been on. it made you excited to see him — so excited in fact, that you showed up fifteen minutes early.
and yet in spite of this whole thing being his idea, kazuha never showed up, leaving you to make a fool of yourself in one of the nicest restaurants in the city.
"knew i should've stayed home," you grumble as you trudge through the downpour. you're totally lying to yourself; you had no intention of saying no to him. kazuha could suggest anything and you know you'd agree at the drop of a hat. but as they say, hindsight is 20/20; you should have dug your heels in and said no and suggested something else — maybe something that didn't involve you looking like a fucking moron at a restaurant.
your vision blurs suddenly, forcing you to come to a halt. you think it's because of the torrential rain, but the heat radiating off of your cheeks tells you otherwise. you wipe your eyes free of water — a futile effort — and chuckle humorlessly to yourself. why are you doing this? it's not like anybody's going to notice, right? you sniffle; that can easily be because you're cold and wet.
you sob. you tell yourself it's just a cough.
stop being so dramatic. keep walking.
the second you turn onto a narrow street, you hear a familiar thwip-! coming from overhead. you barely have time to acknowledge that spider-man is swinging around before he's landing right in front of you, blocking your path. you brush rainwater (and tears) out of your eyes to see him better. "you're, uh, kinda in my way, spider-man," you call out over the downpour. "could you move so i can go home?"
"what're you doing out here without an umbrella?" spider-man asks. he doesn't move like you asked; he just steps closer. and if you strain your ears a little, you think he sounds really worried. maybe you're just hearing things. "you're drenched! you're going to get sick at this rate."
for some reason, his concern makes you want to laugh. you crack a smile, though there's very little joy to be found in it. "i'm just taking a nightly stroll." you lie. "and don't worry, i won't get sick. i'm the nurse here, remember? now could you move, please?"
you step around him and start to walk past, but he grabs your arm, stopping you. why is he being like this? what is it with the men in your life tonight? "i... can't be too sure that you'll go straight home." he lets you go and holds out his hands for you to take. "at the very least, allow me to take you."
you make a face. "shouldn't you be saving someone somewhere?"
"i'm offering to take you somewhere, aren't i?" he asks. it sounds more like a retort to you. "and aren't you someone?"
"uh-huh. and what are you saving me from, exactly?"
"if we move fast enough, probably a really bad head cold." spider-man shakes his hand, silently urging you to take it. "come on. i can't have my doctor getting sick, can i?"
you sigh. you don't have it in you to turn down his offer. you never do, now that you're thinking about it. you should really do some self-evaluation. besides, the rain is fucking freezing — it felt nice a few minutes ago, but you can feel yourself starting to shiver and shake. that cold may just catch you regardless of how quickly you get home. "fine," you say and take his hand.
spider-man pulls you in by your hand and wraps an arm around your waist. instinctively, you cling to him as tightly as you can. he's as warm as ever, you note, even in the freezing rain. at this distance, you hear him chuckle: "at least you know to hold on tight." you get no other warning before he's zipping through the air with you in tow. you shriek at the sudden movement, but spider-man only laughs. "you're alright," he reassures you over the wind.
in no time at all, you're being rested on your balcony. you slide open the door and stumble into your apartment on wobbly knees, ignoring spider-man's amused laughter. "you're like a baby deer every time," he giggles. "are you not used to it yet?"
"stop making it sound like i'm the weird one here." you grumble as you lower yourself into a chair. your body feels too stiff and heavy to move. you're still drenched, but all you can do right now is shiver in your seat. meanwhile, spider-man isn't making any moves to leave. he's just watching you — or at least, you think he is. "what're you s-standing there for?" you stutter. you're cold. "what's the matter?"
spider-man puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs it awkwardly. are you missing something right now? why is he suddenly acting like this? "are you... going to tell me why you were walking in the rain?" he holds the back of his neck, his eyes seemingly still on you. "i refuse to believe that you were taking a 'nightly stroll'." he uses air quotes to repeat your earlier words.
you laugh shakily. "are you interrogating me, spider-man?"
for once, he doesn't laugh with you. "i... just want to know. i'll leave you alone as soon as you tell me; you need to go and warm up."
you open your mouth to explain, but as you look back on the whole incident, you once again feel embarrassment take you by the shoulders. why were you really walking home in the rain? you could've ducked into a store and called a cab or taken public transportation -- what possessed you to do something so childish? your skin, though clammy, heats up as you avert your eyes.
you press your palm against your lips, muffling your voice. "i was, uh... stood up."
"...really now?"
you grimace and nod. "it was, um... supposed to be our tenth date, actually." you recall the blush that coated kazuha's cheeks when he asked you out the other day, and you start to feel the beginnings of a smile on your face. he's so cute — you'd give anything to see him right now.
because as upset as you may have been earlier, you realize that deep down, you just really want to be with kazuha. you're pissed that he still hasn't contacted you yet, but you have faith that he will; this kind of discourtesy isn't like him.
spider-man doesn't know that, though. he makes a noise of disapproval. "pardon my harsh language, songbird," he comments, "but he sounds like an asshole."
you gasp, scandalized. you've never heard him swear before. it sounds so wrong coming from him — was he really that upset about you being stood up? why did that thought make your heart skip a beat? "don't say something like that!" you open your mouth to continue chastising him, but instead you sneeze, hard. you groan and rise to your feet. if you don't move now, you really will catch that cold. "say something bad about my boyfriend again, and i'll fight your face off." you call over your shoulder as you head to your bathroom.
"your boyfriend?" spider-man's words give you pause. you whirl around to glare at him, ready to retort and defend yourself, but he puts his hands up in mock surrender. "you said it, not me. but i must say," he lays his hand over his chest, "i'm wounded, songbird. and here i thought i stood a chance."
you freeze. he thought what?! your mind starts to race immediately, but you reel yourself in quickly. your feelings for spider-man are supposed to be a thing of the past. they were childish and impractical — kazuha is the better choice in every way possible. remember that, you tell yourself.
you flip him off with a sigh. "get out, webhead. i'm going to warm up."
spider-man shrugs, the perfect picture of nonchalance. if only he knew the things he did to your head. "alright, alright." he heads back to your balcony. "take care of yourself, okay?" he calls out to you.
"whatever!" you call back.
with a laugh, he leaps off of your balcony and swings into the stormy night, leaving you dripping in your hallway. you shake your head and start towards your bathroom.
once you've taken a hot shower and put on some warm, dry clothes, you drop yourself onto your couch and turn your tv on. you're not really watching anything, but the background noise is nice. you lay yourself down and roll onto your back.
so the date was a bust. you sigh heavily. that restaurant was so, so nice, too. the atmosphere was perfect — you're pretty sure that if kazuha had asked you to be his partner there, you might have cried. that, or you would have passed out; either one seems likely. you pause for a second. is that what he was going to ask you? oh, you definitely would've cried.
are you really upset about being stood up? you gave it some thought while you were in the shower and decided that no, you're not all that upset. at least, not with kazuha. embarrassed, yes — you can never show your face at that restaurant again — but not upset. kazuha's track record speaks for itself; you can always re-schedule the date.
again, you sigh. you're much too nice to him. simp.
you're about to change the channel on the tv when you hear a frantic knocking on your front door. you jump, startled by the sudden noise. hesitant, you make your way to the door. "uh, who is it?" you call out.
the voice from behind the door makes your stomach flip. "it's kazuha. can i see you? please?"
kazuha? he came here?
you look through your peephole and sure enough, kazuha is standing in front of your door looking very winded, very distressed, and very drenched. without thinking twice, you fling your door open and tug him inside. "what were you thinking, coming here in this weather without an umbrella?!" you hiss at him as you take in his rain soaked state. under any other circumstances, you'd be gentler with him — normally you would never be so snappy with him — but all that's on your mind as you dart over to your linen closet is how sick he's going to be because of this.
kazuha's eyes widen at your tone. "i had to come and see you," he tries to explain. "i--"
you don't let him finish. you drop a soft towel over his head and start rubbing him dry, ignoring the startled noise he makes. "you're still catching your breath, too. christ, did you run here or something?"
you move the towel so that you can see kazuha's face. he looks so apologetic and honestly, really cute with his face peeking out from under the towel. "if i said yes, would you be upset with me?"
"what the-- yes!" you head back over to your linen closet and grab a bigger towel before marching into your room to rifle through your stuff. you can't believe he risked a catching a cold like this! and for what? just to see you? you stop for a moment and recognize just how romantic his gesture is supposed to be. his sprinting all the way to your apartment (and judging by the way his chest was heaving, up the stairs, too) in the freezing rain makes your heart stutter — to think he would go this far just to see you... you shake your head. you can be flattered after he's dry. you hear a quiet sneeze from outside your room and quickly head back out to see kazuha rubbing at his nose.
you shove the clothes you found into his arms along with the towel. "go and take a shower and put these on." you shake your head when he starts to talk back. "nope, i don't want to hear it. when you're done, leave your clothes in the sink and i'll wash and dry them."
"this is--"
"kazuha." your tone is flat and leaves no room for argument. you raise a brow at him and he stares at you for just a second longer before doing as you said. once the bathroom door is closed, you drop yourself back on your couch and bury your face in your hands.
you thought that you weren't upset, but now that he's actually here, you're not quite sure what it is you're feeling. are you pissed because he risked his health to see you? or do you want to punch him for standing you up tonight? well, you think to yourself, he wouldn't have run in the rain if he didn't feel bad about the whole date situation. you look at the bathroom door with a tiny smile. he can be such a charmer when he wants to be — an impulsive one, but a charmer nonetheless. you decide that you're definitely just upset at him for being so stupid.
time passes and eventually kazuha emerges from your bathroom in the large hoodie and sweatpants you forced upon him. he looks adorable in your clothes. you tell him to make himself comfortable before tossing his clothes in the laundry. when you come back, you seat yourself beside him. he seems to be making himself small — either that or he's just drowning in the clothes you gave him. "am i allowed to speak now?" he asks quietly.
you snort. "yes, kazuha, you can speak now."
"i'm really sorry." kazuha's eyes are on you, and you can see the remorse swimming in them. he looks like he's gauging your reaction for permission to continue. when you say nothing, he goes on: "i swear to you, i was on my way there when something suddenly came up," he continues. "it was urgent and demanded all of my attention. i must have gotten so absorbed that i'd forgotten to contact you. by the time everything had finished, it was incredibly late and i figured that you must've gone home, so i..." he trails off.
you tilt your head. "so you ran here?"
kazuha nods. "i... didn't realize doing so would upset you so much. so please, allow me to apologize for that as well. i know my excuse may sound generic and unsatisfying, but you have to believe me when i say that i'm telling the truth.
well, there it is. there's your apology. you press your lips together to fight off a smile. "i believe you just fine," you say. "and i forgive you."
he blinks in disbelief. "are... you sure? aren't you upset with me?"
"do you want me to be?"
"you should be." kazuha winces. this is seriously eating at him; his brows are drawn and his jaw is clenched, showing in no uncertain terms that at least one of you is upset. upset may not even be the right word. he's starting to look pained, if not anything else. why is he being like this? for the second time tonight, you feel like you're missing something here.
you reach over and gently tap your fingers against his own in a silent request to take his hand. he visibly stalls before tentatively wrapping his pinky around yours. "i really do forgive you, you know." you murmur. "life happens, and sometimes plans don't work out. that's just the way things are."
kazuha sighs, unconvinced by your kindness. "the whole date was my idea." he takes his hand away from yours. "at the very least, i should have contacted you." he looks away from you. "and i know that... that this won't be the last time something like this happens. i don't want to keep disappointing you like this."
there's a hidden weight to his words that you pick up on. it's apparent that he's not telling you something, but it's not like you can just pry it out of him. he's barely listening to you as it is. you find yourself stuck between being flattered that he cares so much and worried that he'll truly never forgive himself for this. what can you do to convince him that you're not mad?
kazuha's shoulders tense and you can see color faintly rising to his cheeks. "and i was going to ask you..." he pauses for a second to look at you. "...something important, but i'm worried that i shouldn't. that i don't deserve to."
...you knew it. you fucking knew it! you see the way he's looking at you — he was totally going to ask you to be his partner. the problem now though, is that he's probably not going to. he's kicking himself while he's down, ruining your relationship before you even had a chance to form one.
it's not hard to see things his way. he's worried that he can't guarantee that he'll be able to confidently make time for you without interruption. it's a legitimate concern — who doesn't worry about this kind of thing? what he needs to hear now is not that everything's okay, but rather that it will be; that you're content with any mistakes he may make; that you're more than willing to take him as he is, urgent issues and all.
again, you knock your fingers on his. this time, you hook two of your fingers on his. "ask me." you tell him.
kazuha frowns slightly. "i don't..."
"do you still want to ask?"
"of course." he pauses to squints at you. "you already know what it is i'm going to ask you, don't you?"
you bite back a grin. "maybe i do, maybe i don't. ask me anyways."
a smile ghosts across his face as his cheeks redden just a little bit more. "i was going to ask if you wanted to... make our relationship official." he looks down at your joined fingers before looking back at you. "and it would mean the world to me if you said—"
"yes."
kazuha takes your hand fully. "i had a feeling you would say that." it's evident in the way he visibly softens and in the way he sighs that he's pleased with your answer (although 'pleased' is far too light a word to describe the pure, raw happiness that overtook his face). maybe you're going crazy, but you think that something akin to love flashes in his eyes. it overwhelms you. he takes your hand fully in his and you feel your own face start to warm just from looking at him.
"i was always going to say yes," you say when you manage to find your voice. "i want to be with you, kazuha."
his expression dims. did you say something wrong? "i want to be with you too," he says as he brings your hand up to cup his face. "but as i said, i may be a disappointment to you. i don't want to hurt you in any way, even if it's by accident."
you brush your thumb over his skin. it's warm to the touch. "you won't hurt me," you say softly. "and a little disappointment won't be the end of the world."
kazuha regards you closely. he looks like he's trying to be at peace with your hand on his face, but the draw in his brows gives away his internal conflict. for a second, you wonder if you're coming off too strong. you like kazuha a lot (it's probably too soon to say the big L word, but it surely doesn't scare you), but you're always afraid that you're either giving too much of yourself, or not enough. your insistence on dating him may be more repulsive than attractive.
"i like you," he suddenly murmurs, "so much."
your chest feels tight and you feel breathless. why did he suddenly say that? "i like you, too," you reply.
kazuha leans in and presses his forehead against yours. you hold your breath as his eyes slip shut. he seems so at peace at this distance, unlike you, who's trying to swallow back your heart that suddenly leaped into your throat. "i'd like to be yours," he says in the space between. "if you'll have me, that is."
you feel so dizzy, so drunk on your giddy emotions. this isn't how you saw tonight playing out at all, but you're not going to complain. "of course," you breathe your response. your voice trembles just a little, giving away your nervousness. "you're all i want."
at that, kazuha kisses you. it's slow and sweet, and also — if memory serves you right — the fifth time he's kissed you. if life were a cartoon, you would probably flushed bright red, lovestruck and dumb; a fool for the man before you. it takes you a second to kiss him back — he pulls away for just a moment but you capture his lips again and drink in the content sigh he rewards you with. this is different from the kisses you've shared before. the others were reserved and almost timid, hesitant kisses shared at the beginning of a new relationship. this kiss becomes intoxicating and gratifying — one you find yourself quickly getting addicted to.
believe it or not though, it's you who pulls away first, your heart stuttering in your chest. you don't go very far, but you turn your head away to try and retain some of your sanity. it's obvious that what you said had quite the effect on kazuha; his fingers come to your jaw and move you gently so that you're facing him again, but he doesn't close the gap. there's another silence before he kisses you once, then twice, before he pulls away and sighs. "if there's anything that i can do to make up for tonight," he says, "tell me. i'll do anything."
there's only one thing you can think of saying. "stay with me tonight." the words come out easily — maybe a little too easily. you fluster and your face heats up considerably as you start to ramble. "i-i mean, um... it's gonna be pouring all night and you clearly don't have an umbrella so i mean, i think you should stay. if you want to, then of course you can stay, but you can say no — i just don't want you to catch a cold, y'know..."
kazuha says nothing; he watches you with thinly veiled amusement in his eyes. "would me staying the night make you happy?"
you groan quietly. "stop enjoying this. you know the answer already."
"i do, i do. you're just really cute when you're embarrassed."
"you know what? forget it. i'm gonna go check on your clothes." you stand abruptly to escape your discomfort, but kazuha takes your hand in his, stopping you with a laugh.
"i'm sorry, dove, i'm sorry." he chuckles as he speaks. he stands and pulls you in by your waist. "i'll stay the night. does that sound good?"
you rest your hands on his shoulders poised to push him away, but think against it. your heart is hammering in your chest. it's hard to be mad at him when he's smiling like that, even if it's at your expense. asking him to stay was a spur of the moment decision, but when you look at him like this, up close, you know that you would've had a hard time letting him go. so... "yeah," you mutter. "sounds good. now will you please let me go and check on your clothes?"
he hums and leans in. his voice is barely above a murmur when he speaks. "one more thing." and for (what you think is) the eighth time since you've started seeing each other, kazuha kisses you, sending pleasure rocketing through your system. it drags on despite you trying to pull away, what with kazuha chasing after your lips with a mischievous smile the entire time.
eventually, you get fed up and hold his face. "knock it off, you." you say once you successfully pull away. "i have things to do."
kazuha, who looks far brighter than he was earlier, lets you go and raises his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. go on. i'll be here; i promise."
you open your mouth to say something snide, but quickly shut it. you're floored by just how happy he makes you, even if he can be annoying from time to time. perhaps it's because you're technically in the honeymoon phase, but you know for a fact that his smile is one you'd do anything to protect. becoming his partner is a decision you know you'll never, ever regret, and you're sure of that.
you turn on your heel and start towards the laundry room. "don't miss me too much!" you call over your shoulder. kazuha's quiet laughter follows you out of the room, warming your heart.
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✦ [screaming and crying]
✦ I HAVE BEEN GOING THROUGH KAZUHA WITHDRAWALS FOR DAYS AND THAT'S WHY THERE'S SO MANY KISSES, I'M SO SORRY I'M SUCH A PATHETIC BITCHNDBSDJ
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seiya-starsniper · 6 months
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hello hello i see you're open to prompts 👀
how about #20"I'm just going to lie right here" for dreamling (or any ship you prefer 👀)
happy writing, my dear 💜✨️
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HEY SO REMEMBER THIS PROMPT YOU SENT ME FIVE MONTHS AGO??? Apparently it took me getting another prompt to finally come up with an idea for it, so I've gone and combined the two 😄💖 Gentle Prompts Here and Soft Prompts Here (I'll still accept prompts from both because I am a fluff machine)
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Hob knows something is wrong as soon as his roommate enters their shared apartment and slams the door behind him.
“Morph? You all right?” Hob calls out, pausing his movie and turning to the entryway where Morpheus is angrily pulling off his shoes and shoving his coat onto the hooks. He also practically slams his keys down into the tray on the side table by the door, and Hob winces at the loud clang that echoes through the apartment. He considers asking Morpheus again if he’s all right, but decides to let his moody roommate come to him instead. 
Something is definitely very wrong if his roommate is making this much noise. Morpheus Endless is normally so quiet of a roommate that Hob doesn’t always notice when the other man is even in the apartment at the same time as him. Morpheus was so silent and unassuming that Hob had felt like he was being haunted by a ghost rather than living with a real person the first few months they started living together. Hob would be jump-scared in his own kitchen simply by turning around and finding Morpheus there right behind him. He had no idea another person could walk so quietly. The worst time had been in the bathroom, when Hob had accidentally squirted half a tube of toothpaste all over the other man’s black shirt. From that point forward, Morpheus had started knocking along the walls wherever he walked, so that Hob would know where he was at any given moment.
Still, the pale man was an ideal roommate otherwise, if not a little socially awkward at times. On top of his eerily quiet nature, it had taken months for Hob to get Morpheus to even say more than five words to him whenever they were in the same room together. Hob had first thought Morpheus was just disinterested in being friendly all together, but then one night, like a cat, his roommate peeked his head out of his room to the smell of Hob cooking dinner. Hob has since learned to let Morpheus come to him, instead of trying to impress on the man himself.
Hob’s efforts seem to now be paying off, for instead of stomping off to his bedroom to sulk about whatever it is, Morpheus instead makes his way over to the couch and plants himself directly in front of Hob’s line of vision. Hob tries to give his best reassuring smile as he stares up at the pale man.
“Bad day?” Hob asks gently. “I’m happy to listen, if you’d like. Looks like you could use a hug too.”
Morpheus doesn’t answer, he simply sways somewhat unsteadily for a few moments, before he practically collapses onto the couch. The only problem is, Hob is still very much sitting on said couch, and instead of aiming for the empty spot next to him, Hob instead finds himself with an armful of gangly limbs and untamed hair. 
“Oof,” Hob grunts as he takes on the unexpected weight. Hug it is, then. Morpheus isn’t heavy by any means, but it still takes a moment for Hob to adjust to having what is effectively an oversized cat suddenly in his lap. Hob eventually manages to wiggle his arms out from under Morpheus, before wrapping them around the pale man and pulling him against his chest. Morpheus immediately takes the cue and buries his face in Hob’s shoulder, shaking like a leaf and failing to keep his breathing even.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay, it’s all right,” Hob soothes, rubbing at Morpheus’s back. His roommate is freezing from the cold weather outside, but he’s quickly warming up the longer Hob holds him.
Hob doesn’t know what it is that’s upset Morpheus so much, but whatever it is, he’s glad that his roommate isn’t trying to deal with it alone, that they’ve come far enough in their friendship (though Morpheus has yet to call him a friend at this point) for him to show Hob this vulnerable side of him. 
The only downside to this is that this newfound vulnerability is doing absolutely nothing to help Hob’s teeny tiny, absolutely miniscule crush on his roommate. But that’s neither here nor there. Hob tucks the yearning feelings that arise from their newfound intimacy quietly behind his ribs and focuses all his energy into comforting Morpheus instead. 
“Do you…want to talk about it?” Hob asks Morpheus. 
A soft inhale. Then a shake of the head against his shoulder. The motion alerts Hob to the fact that his shoulder is damp, and the realization makes his heart lurch up into his throat. He wants to go out and find whoever or whatever it is that’s upset Morpheus so much and give them an introduction to his fists.
“Okay…” Hob continues, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. He’s here for comfort, not to be a white knight. “That’s fine, we don’t need to get into it. Uhm…can I readjust though? This position’s a bit uncomfortable.”
There’s a short pause, and then eventually, Hob feels Morpheus nod against his shoulder.  
Moving Morpheus is a fairly easy task. If Hob didn’t know any better, he’d think his roommate had been replaced by some sort of mannequin from the way he lets Hob manhandle him so easily. He seems to be mostly aware of what’s happening, which is good, but it’s clear he’s no in any sort of headspace for conversation just yet.
Eventually, Hob is able to rearrange them so that he’s lying with his back resting on the arm of the couch, and Morpheus is sprawled on top of him. Their legs are tangled together and Hob’s also thrown the large throw blanket over them for good measure. Morpheus, of course, reburies his head in Hob’s shoulder, and Hob takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around his roommate’s shoulders once more, rubbing soothing circle’s into the other man’s back.
“See, that’s better now, isn’t it?” Hob asks gently. “Nothing beats a good hug and a cuddle on the couch when you’ve had a bad day.”
Morpheus hums, but otherwise doesn’t offer any other sort of verbal reply. It’s a start.
“You can stay as long as you like,” Hob adds. “I’m just going to lay right here until you decide you want to move.”
“Then you’ll be here until tomorrow,” Morpheus croaks, his voice clearly cracked from crying.
Hob laughs and moves his hand up from Morpheus’s back to ruffle the man’s messy black hair. Morpheus groans in annoyance and bats his hand away, but otherwise does not move from his chin perch on Hob’s shoulder. Somehow, Morpheus's hair looks exactly the same.
“There you are,” Hob says, his voice fond. “Was starting to worry you’d gone mute on me.”
“No,” Morpheus says. “...I still don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s fine,” Hob replies, then adds, “and we can stay here until tomorrow, really, if you like. But I will need to pee at some point.”
Morpheus huffs. “I suppose that is acceptable.”
“Can I tempt you with some food too?” Hob asks. “I’ll even feed it to you if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Morpheus replies. “I can feed myself.”
“All right,” Hob says, shrugging and shifting himself into a more comfortable lying position. “Need anything else? Want to take a nap?”
Morpheus doesn’t answer for some time, and Hob almost thinks the man fell asleep on him already, but then his roommate readjusts his limbs as well and moves his body downwards until his head is resting on Hob’s chest. Hob wants to cry at how adorable he looks, at how right it feels that their bodies fit together so perfectly, like they were made for each other. 
“A nap sounds nice,” Morpheus finally replies, mumbling quietly into Hob’s chest. “And perhaps food when we wake up.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Hob agrees. He already knows he’s going to be ordering take-out for tonight, but come tomorrow, he’s going to make all of Morpheus’s favorite foods for the rest of his week. For the rest of his life, if he’d let him.
It doesn’t take terribly long for Morpheus to fall asleep on him, and Hob resists the urge to plant a kiss in the man’s hair, settling instead for gently rubbing at Morpheus’s back. Hob falls asleep not too long after his roommate, and when he dreams, he dreams of a home filled with warmth and joy and love.
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arabaka · 1 year
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ uzui tengen x fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! written with the intention of being canon-divergent: tengen is in his early 20s when you marry and either you will be the only wife or the first (so no mention of the 3 wives here). term "bride" is used. virginity loss (and mention of sex hurting). unprotected sex. creampie. AUTHOR'S NOTE: tbh, i'm not a huge fan of this but i didn't work for hours not to post this lol so pls be nice... WORD COUNT: 3.1K PSD CREDIT !!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED !!!!!!!( ꐦꉺωꉺ)つ
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Marriage, it’s a means to an end for the women in your clan; how useful can you be if you’re not bearing children, and lots of them, to ensure that the livelihood of your bloodline (or rather, your husband’s) stands the test of your time? Affection is hardly guaranteed, intimacy only a factor when you’re underneath the man you’re promised to. You know this, were raised with this idea in mind. The very notion of love is an afterthought.
You aren’t expecting it. Did not think it would come to you, no matter who you were to wed. So as you’re seated, posture nice and proper, with your treasured koto lying in front of you as evidence of your many talents, you expect your heart to be tame when your betrothed walks through those doors.
So imagine your surprise when your heart betrays you, thumping at a rate you’ve only experienced during your harsh and diligent kunoichi training, when a certain Uzui Tengen, strongest of his family, strides in your line of vision with an aura unlike anything you’ve ever sensed before.
You feel silly, fingers trembling for a man you know only by his name on your tongue. It’s a sickly sensation, your stomach folding in on itself with nerves you didn’t count on. You nearly forget to bow, not wanting to tear your eyes away from the magnetism the man exudes for even a second but your mother is kind enough to press a firm palm to your back. You always thought she would want this more than you, but now you’re not so sure after coming face to face with someone the likes of him. 
Tengen grew up largely the same, if we are on the topic of principle alone. Children in the Uzui household are raised to care for aptitude and strength, not each other. Bloodshed is more common than a kind word. But while his father tried to hammer away the notion that wives are only good for childrearing and nothing else, Tengen couldn’t help but feel that his heart would sing for a woman to call his own.
A hope that comes to fruition the moment his eyes land on you, that very song he always longed for reaching a crescendo when you bless him with the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. 
So the questions the faction head goes through end up mattering little in comparison to your answers. Every word, Tengen clings to. Even when you play the koto, fingers daintily and precisely plucking the strings to orchestrate a tune Tengen wants as his personal lullaby, all he can keep his eyes on is you. 
The attraction between the two of you is as sudden as it is all encompassing. You have never entertained the thought of love, much less love at first sight, yet here you are, completely and totally enamored with a man you hardly know. 
You didn’t think you would get swept up like this, didn’t think this passion would overtake your heart so easily and so strongly but you suppose this is fate and you aren’t about to question the gift it’s plopped onto your lap.
The clan leader is just about to take back the reins on the meeting, declare that a further review would take place, when Tengen pipes up loud and clear, with a fire in his eyes you would soon grow accustomed to.
“No need! This will be my bride!” 
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears and it is throbbing. He sounds so sure, looks even more so with his brawny arms crossed over his puffed out chest and you can feel your vision wobble, his entire visage and the intention of his declaration striking you right where you sit. And with that, you refuse to allow any moment of silence to cross the room, for fear even a second could cost you the marriage. Your volume is on par with Tengen’s as you cry, “It would be my honor! Please,” You bow before the man, forehead kissing the tatami mat below when you continue, “bless me with the privilege to live alongside you for as long as either of us shall live.”
Those words… You mean them, can feel your tongue fanning the flames of your soul, embers burning bright for the man you are determined to make your husband. And it’s a role he is just as eager to take, having resolved to claim you since the moment your eyes met.
And he tells you as much when the two of you are finally alone, after the arrangement is all said and done.
“Come here.” Unlike your first meeting, Tengen’s voice here is tender and soft, a hand of his outstretched as he beckons you to come into the room the two of you will now share as husband and wife. Dressed in a nighttime garment with his hair down and face clean of any distractions, it’s no wonder you hesitate, in awe of the beauty of your spouse. You catch yourself staring, cheeks basking in newfound feverish warmth but your husband simply laughs. Not at you, not at your expense, but because you’re just too damn cute.
Your intention is to sit beside him, but Tengen has other plans. Not content with the idea of being apart from you any longer, he captures your hands in his and pulls, guiding you onto his lap. He feels your legs buckle and squirm until you’ve adjusted to the thick muscle just underneath his robe. This may be as foreign to him as it is to you, but it sure doesn’t seem like it. Must be the confidence that seems to come with everything Tengen does, like the grin he’s giving you right at this moment.
“Comfortable?” He asks, just as he runs a large palm down your spine until resting firmly on the small of your back. He cocks his head then, white tresses framing his strong jawline and you feel your heart rattling from his effortless charm. And to think, you have this man now and forever. It’s supposed to be daunting to a degree but this climate is nothing like the arranged marriages you’ve heard about in the district. Where you’re supposed to feel constrained, you feel cradled. Where you’re supposed to feel obligation, you feel true desire. 
“Mmhm,” Your hands travel from your body to his, walking up his torso and stifling a breath when you feel the firmness of his pecs waiting underneath his garb, “Very.” You notice the slight quiver in his chest on an inhale; it would be indiscernible to anyone else but to someone of your caliber, someone trained to analyze even the most minute changes in another person’s body, it’s all too apparent. “And you?” You feel called to touch more of him, fingertips trailing towards his center and dipping beneath the hemline of his clothing. 
He revels in your touch, craves more of it actually but Tengen is also enjoying the simplicity of this initial contact. You’ve inspired him to explore more of you, letting his other hand wander up your arm until it sweeps over your clavicle. He’s thoughtful in the way his thumb brushes strokes along the bone, admiring the finer details of your form. “Very.” He repeats, crimson eyes flitting to meet yours and you swear, you lose even the most basic skill of breathing just then. 
You realize then, just how close the two of you are. It should scare you, the intensity of this position but you can only think of wanting more when you look at Tengen’s strong features, the flare burning and circulating his pupils.
“Tengen,” You breathe, “Do you believe in fate?” 
He offers up a smile before moving his fingers up from your neckline until he has his thumb pressing down on the surface of your chin, the rest of his fingers crooked underneath to gingerly move your head, allowing him to admire your features from every angle. “Of course.” He sounds so certain, “How else would we have met?”
His words, they’re so sweet they litter goosebumps on your skin. But he doesn’t stop there. The pad of his thumb is now at your bottom lip, squishing the skin so he can watch the delightful way color drains from it. Your teeth poke out just a tad and you hear a soft rumble in the base of his throat, a groan he’s barely able to restrain at how delicious you look. “You need to know, I don’t do anything half-assed. I don’t take anything that’s beneath me.” You follow his direction, your head tilting to the side and god, he could just eat you up. Looking as disheveled as you do, hair flowing in the same direction with the collar of your garment starting to slide down the slope of your shoulder. 
You notice the pivot in his gaze, feel a tremble in your bones when he starts to speak again, “And what I do take…” You feel pressure on your back, Tengen working to close the gap between you two at last and all you can do is follow, desperately craving the same thing. “Is what I treasure.” 
And at long last, your lips touch, the hand at your face now withdrawing only for it to land squarely on your thigh, squeezing the supple flesh that awaits him there. You sigh, following suit and finally letting your fingers curl and grip knots into Tengen’s robe. You’ve never kissed, never known it could feel this good and it’s a high your brain won’t soon forget, even if your movements are naive and at times, clunky. 
When you part, it’s only for a breath. Tengen milks the opportunity though, drinking in the dazed look in your eyes, the gap between your lips as you try to find satisfaction apart from him. He knows what he wants, knows what he needs and that is to kiss you more.
You desire the same, knees at either side of Tengen’s body starting to cave in as the urge for more, more, more starts to overwhelm your very soul. You swoop in, kissing Tengen and stealing a glance at just the right moment so you can watch those pretty eyes of his flutter shut. His lips, they’re as firm as the rest of him but when he kisses you, it’s with a fondness you’ve never felt in your life. A care you’ll only ever want from him.
One kiss turns to two, then three until it’s like you’ve only known how to kiss him your whole life. The moment, it starts to feel so good that you unknowingly start to sink deeper into his lap, squeezing a throat groan from the man that you part your lips to swallow. You have to have more so your tongue crosses the threshold, sliding along his until the spit starts to trickle out the corner of your mouth and coat your lips in a glossy sheen.
Do you know what you’re doing to him? Do you understand that you’re reducing a man as strong as he into a melted mess? You feel his nails start to dig into your back, mimicking what you’re doing to his chest and you whimper. Not from pain, but from pleasure.
You don’t know when it happened, but you’ve stopped rubbing yourself on his meaty thighs and started grinding on the very prominent outline of his hardened cock. And now that you’ve started, you don’t want to stop. So you keep bumping yourself against his girth, keep winding yourself up and down, up and down over its thick weight because it sparks to life a tingling pleasure you’ve never imagined.
Tengen tries to grin into the kiss but he surprises himself when all he can offer up is a needy groan. What a little minx you’ve become, he should have expected this show of force but the surprise only quickens the blood flow to his shaft and you feel it, experience the twitch bouncing between your folds. He reminds you of the hold he has on you, one hand deepening the arch in your back while the other at your thigh starts to direct the rhythm of your hips. “Let me have you. Let me have all of you, my bride.” He growls so intently into your mouth that all you can do is nod your head and let his hands get to work.
“Need to see you, hold on.” Tengen’s back to the floor and you on top, he ushers you to come to a seat under his shaft so he can see how far up his long and heavy cock will go inside you. The sight is beautiful, perfect even as he bends his knees so you have something to recline on. The way he starts to pivot his pelvis, running the length of his shaft up your tummy is driving you mad. You’re so wet, it’s dripping onto the base of his member and he trembles once the droplets start to run down his fat and full sac. “Shit, you’re this wet for me? Come on, show me that you’re made for me.”
With that, you pick yourself up, giving yourself enough space to position his leaking tip at your entrance. The head of his dick is wide and swollen. Driblets of his pre-cum start to slather along your folds and as you start to lower yourself, you learn that his length, his width, is going to be a challenge.
But when have you ever turned down a challenge?
“Come on, that’s it.” Tengen’s hands find themselves latched onto your hips, the veins running down his knuckles making themselves known as his grip grows tighter and tighter. He watches your expression, takes note of how your twist and your brows furrow as you stretch for him and he starts to whisper gentle praises, telling you that you’re doing so good, doing so well for your husband.
And it’s like a cork pops when he finally gets the tip in. A whimper escapes you, as does a pant as you struggle to take him. You’ve known pain, trained for it even but this… He’s just massive, you feel like he could split you in two if either of you aren’t careful. Your gummy walls convulse, trying to adopt to the intrusion as best it can as you start to lower yourself inch by inch. 
“S-Shit. You could keep it there and I’d– Fuck.” Tengen throws his head back, crown digging into the mat while he stills himself inside you. Even though you’re clenched around him so firmly, you’re still dribbling your juices onto him, slathering him in your essence and he’s only a little past his glans inside you. “You’re so damn tight.”
When did you start drooling? When did tears start to prick at your waterline? The sensation of Tengen filling you out is all you can think about and even though it hurts, you want to work through the strain. “Is– s-so big, T-Tengen.” You whine and it shocks you, the frailty in your voice.
His head picked back up, Tengen can’t believe what he’s seeing. A bump is starting to take shape the more you sink down his cock, the evidence that he’s well inside you on a beautiful display for him. “You’re doing great. Taking me so fucking well.” You have him hissing, incapable of taking on a tone any louder than that– a true feat for the man with a voice that can command a room.
So he watches you with bated breath and the edge of his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as you take him right to the end, your ass coming to a snugly rest on his upper thighs. Neither of you move just then, wishing to enjoy the moment as it is.
You’re shaking, your entire body rocking on Tengen’s burly muscles and even though all he is doing is flexing his cock inside you, you paw incessantly on his chest. “T-Tengen…” 
He coaxes you to lower yourself, draw close to him so you’re chest to chest. Close enough to kiss, so he does. “Gonna move a little.” Accenting his words is the slow roll of his hips, the rigidity of his member expanding further into your core and while it still aches, you’re starting to weed out the bits and pieces of dizzying pleasure within. “This is all I need tonight, baby. Just this.” Tengen nibbles on your bottom lip, narrowed eyes still on you even as you kiss.
The nod you give is lazy, all your energy drained by every tremor, every squeeze of your cunt. “T-Tengen, t-touch me– t-touch me here.” You mewl, saliva dripping into your husband’s mouth as one of your hands shakily takes his. You mold his hand, direct it to cup your sopping heat. “P-Please, please, please.” 
You’ve never begged. But for him? You’ll do anything.
Huffing because every exhale turns into a stifled grunt, Tengen’s thick fingers start to run motions along your little bundle of nerves until he gets to a routine of toying with your clit. He follows your moans like a song, paying attention to what movement makes you sing the prettiest. He kneads your sweet muscle, swiping some of your slick and coating your clit until it too is drenched.
Lashes kissing and eyes rolling back, you begin to meet Tengen’s ruts as if it comes to you naturally. That’s what it feels like anyways, because you keep driving your hips back so expertly it must be instinctual. You continue at this pace for a while, your motions languid and his penetration deep. 
“Gonna cum,” Tengen suddenly grunts, rocking you forward so your forehead ends up docking against his, “and it’s gonna be inside.” This isn’t a question. This isn’t up for debate.
And you’re okay with that.
“Y-Yes, plea-please.” 
Pressure builds in his thrusts, he’s fucking into you with more strength but with the same speed and that’s just what he needs before you feel him emptying his hot and heavy load into you. It’s passionate, the kiss he gives you as he fills you up and makes you nice and wet for him to pump the remaining spurts of his seed. “Hnnghh, fuckkkkk.” The thunderous moan has you trembling, your hole spasming around your husband’s cock as you too start to feel an overwhelming wave of bliss wash over you.  It’s amazing how gentle this boisterous, big man can be as he helps you off his cock, so much of him leaking out of you almost instantly as he does so. And it’s amazing, how he massages your stomach afterwards, soothing your various muscles for all their hard work. And it’s amazing, how at home you feel, in his arms and against his chest, falling asleep to the chorus of his heartbeat after a long, long night.
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henrysglock · 4 months
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Local Man Uses The Cyclical 27-Year Torment Nexus To Try And Change His Fate [EPIC FAIL COMPILATION]
You probably guessed that this is the time-travel post I've been slaving over. You'd be right. This is the newest and most formal iteration of my long-standing time loop theory (I have drafted flowcharts back from February that actually predicted a dimension/time fuckery event in 1943 in relation to Brenner, which was made canon by TFS). So...Let's just dive right in. Note: I'm planning to keep calling TFS Henry "Henry" here just for simplicity's sake.
Now, fair warning: There are a few big "bear with me"s in this post. I promise they make sense, I just need you to hear me out.
It all started with Henry's self-proclaimed superhero name: The Stardust Spider.
Some of you may have seen my original post about The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars (here).
Before anyone says "Oh, but that album didn't exist yet", a reference in 1959 about a Bowie album that wouldn't be recorded until November of 1971 is in keeping with TFS's habit of directly referencing things from the '70s that "don't exist yet".
However, all that aside, there's a specific piece I want to return to, because it bugs the living daylights out of me.
There was a cut song that was meant to go on the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars titled "Shadow Man":
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For obvious reasons in relation to Henry in The First Shadow, this song already stuck out.
Specifically, though, these few stanzas hit me weirdly:
You should call and see who answers For he promises to come running Guided by the truth For the Shadow Man is really You Look in his eyes and see your reflection Look to the stars and see his eyes He'll show you tomorrow, he'll show you the sorrows Of what you did today You can call him foe, you can call him friend You should call and see who answers (see who answers) For he knows your eyes are drawn to the road ahead And the Shadow man is waiting 'round the bend ('round the bend) Shadow man is waiting up ahead
The Shadow Man is you from the future. He's waiting up ahead to show you the the truth/the consequences of your actions.
Considering that the TFS version of Young "Henry" has a direct connection to both the Shadow and Dimension X from a young age, and he also experiences what seem to be Vecna-type visions, this becomes particularly interesting to me...Especially seeing as said fates are not only possible for future "Henry", but also canon for future "Henry". (See: Vecna guy vs Mindflayer guy)
So, when I see an almost comical number of lines in TFS relating to rewriting known, undesirable endings (here are a few of my favorites):
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And when we revisit some of the on-film classics:
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I start to think it's time we revisit the concept of time-travel and trying to change your own fate.
It's always hard to know where to start with posts like these, so I'm going to kick things off with the technical aspect: The Cycle.
Something I've talked about in the past year, mostly on Discord, is this concept of a time loop. Not just any old time loop, though. A 27 year cycle, specifically.
Not 20, not 30...
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Now, we all know the TFS timeline is messy as hell and doesn't actually align with anything that's possible in filmed canon...or within its own time span, even.
For example, the attack on Mr. Newby happens both some point after October 1st, 1959 and before November 20th, 1959...but the papers for the incident report it on March 20th, 1958:
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The timeline we're given also largely fabricated, as I pointed out in relation to the newspapers with dates that don't actually exist.
However, much like NINA, the sequence itself being fake doesn't mean the events didn't happen. It's just not happening in the time frame we're told it's happening in:
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It's a set of real events, just portrayed on a different time scale.
So, with all that in mind, I want to lay out a timeline, starting from Season 4 and moving backwards in time:
— Vecna opens the rifts, and El opens a gate to Dimension X in NINA, both in 1986. The March 1959 Creel Murders occur exactly 27 years before the Rifts and NINA's Dimension X gate open in 1986...at which point the Mindflayer is shown to be active.
— Mothergate opens through to Dimension X at some point between November 1983 and October 1984, this being somewhere between 16-28 months prior the Rifts opening. The paper about the attack on Mr. Newby, dated March 20th, 1958, is released exactly 610 days, or 20 months, prior to the Creel murders on November 20th, 1959. It's not necessarily the exact dates that are important here (again, these dates are relatively unreliable), but the gap between the dates.
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When put in accordance with filmed dates (i.e. setting the release of this paper exactly 610 days prior to March 22nd of 1959), the paper for the attack on Mr. Newby would have been released on July 20th, 1957. This would be in line with Edward Creel's move to Hawkins in the spring of 1957...while also occurring 27 years before July of 1984, at which point Mothergate is open, and the Mindflayer is active.
This July date is especially funny to me considering we get "throwaway" lines like this...with shots in filmed canon from summertime:
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Top: Joyce and Jim beginning their investigation into the attic attack. Hopper Sr. is questioning why Joyce and Jim are investigating, rather than attending school. Bottom: Alice and Henry with the rabbit death scenes in filmed canon, the setting showing full foliage and both children in summer clothing. "Is it summer break?" I don't know. You tell me, Chief.
Per TFS, Henry went missing in a cave system near his home town of Rachel, Nevada (hold that thought) at some point in the year prior to the attack on Mr. Newby. We've been told that Dimension X was involved in this event in Nevada, something happened there that left "Henry" altered physically. He was also flayed at some point around this time.
This all coincides with Henry's dramatic mood shift from a "normal and good" boy to one suffering from Mindflayer-induced psychosis. This change happened in tandem with the Nevada incident, dating back 10 months prior to the attack on Mr. Newby:
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If we set Henry's initial disappearance in line with filmed canon like before, it becomes September of 1956, which is just over 27 years before Will's disappearance in November of 1983, at which point we know at least one gate is open.
We also have 1952, at which point TFS Henry would be 7 per his age as a 14 year old/freshman in play canon. This exists in a 27 year interval against 1979, when El opens the original gate that sends One to Dimension X, where he subsequently shapes the Shadow into the Mindflayer.
Here comes the first "hear me out".
My questions are:
Since Henry/Vecna/The Mindflayer/etc. in general don't show any capability for opening gates before 1986, then how the hell is the Mindflayer possessing anyone in 1959?
How did "Henry" get involved with Dimension X in Nevada in the 1950s?
Unless, by some chance:
Dimension X exists all the time simultaneously (i.e. it's a space outside time)
The gates exist simultaneously across time and space in the Right Side Up in 27 year intervals. By which I mean: A gate that opens in, say, 1983 would exist simultaneously in 1956, so on an so forth.
There's the disappearance of Captain Brenner and the USS Eldridge in 1943, which would, interestingly enough, align with 1970, the supposed year of El's conception.
Then, 1952. Now, I'm not sure what's special about 1952, when TFS "Henry" was 7, because they don't actually say what happened to make that year important! They make a point to show it to us, though, meaning something happened...we just don't know what. All I can say is that 1952 does exist in a 27 year interval against El's 1979 gate. Hold that thought.
Those addressed, let's fast-forward 4 years: 1956/1983.
Now, to be fair, there is some uncertainty in my mind about whether this specific gate incident stems from Brenner's involvement with Project Rainbow in Nevada pre-1957*, or if it stems from Mothergate in 1983, or if they created some kind of wormhole between the two locations 27 years apart...but that's a concept I need to explore more thoroughly in a another post.
In short, though: Did a singular El open a singular Mothergate? Did El open mothergate? Did Mothergate actually open on November 6th, 1983...or are we just supposed to assume it opened the same night Will went missing/the demogorgon came through? We're never given a concrete date for when Mothergate actually opened.
* In TFS, Brenner claims he's dedicated his life post-1943 to Project Rainbow with the goal of finding Dimension X, and that he's doing so in pursuit of knowledge regarding the circumstances of his father's death in connection with the Philadelphia Experiment. The USS Eldridge, Brenner Sr.'s ship, disappeared into Dimension X briefly on October 28th, 1943. "Brenner Sr." was the sole survivor. "He" returned to the Right Side Up with a completely unique blood type, supposedly altered by his travels into Dimension X. This is what ultimately led to him succumbing to his injuries, due to his body rejecting all forms of blood transfusion. Brenner Jr. tells us that about 10 months prior to Henry's first stay in HNL, a scientist from Project Rainbow escaped Brenner's lab carrying a container of a dangerous material, and ended up near the same Nevada cave system Henry disappeared into. We don't know how or when this material was collected, or what it was, but we know they found Henry's Captain Midnight spyglass next to a body (identity unspecified) with no trace of that dangerous material. We get no further detail about the Nevada Disappearance.
Anyway, someone opens a gate in the fall of 1956 and/or 1983 (my money's on it being directly linked to an El in 1983 either way). No matter who did it, though, someone opened a gate at both time points, showing us this 27 year link between the 2 dates, 2 key locations.
"Henry" goes missing in Nevada in 1956, and ends up involved with Dimension X...Which aligns with the choice of song surrounding this version of the Creel family while they move into their new home:
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Coincidentally, 27 years in the future, so does Will, in Indiana. Their experiences are linked across those two spaces via that 27 year period.
We know that regardless of the gate in Nevada...Mothergate, at least, stays open until from fall 1956/1983 to fall 1957/1984. That covers exact time frame that the adjusted dates for both Henry's accident with the boy in Nevada and his accident with Mr. Newby fall in (as well as Will's time between his disappearance and his flaying).
The closer we get to Will's flaying in 1984, and the closer the Mindflayer gets to crossing through Mothergate, the more TFS Henry sounds like One (post-1979) while he's possessed in 1957, the more strangely he behaves in general (almost as though the Mindflayer is more enmeshed in his everyday life/closer to the surface), and the stronger the possession attempts seem to become overall. He begins giving nightmare visions to other people, namely tormenting Virginia with spiders and her past. He has his final and most powerful "Vecna" vision on the night of the attack on Mr. Newby.
Any kind of reciprocal gate irt Mothergate in the '50s would have gone unnoticed, since the papers in TFS indicate that HNL wasn't established until Brenner showed up to take Henry in.
Mothergate closes briefly, only for a gate to open in July 1958/1985 in the underground location of the future Starcourt Mall. This, in 1958, is during our unaccounted-for 20 months between the attack on Mr. Newby and the Creel murders. (Something rattles about this and the scene where Henry nearly makes full contact with the Mindflayer, when he has a handful of duplicate lines re: his 4.07 monologue self, but I don't have sufficient evidence to make that claim with any certainty.)
That gate closes, until Vecna opens gates in Hawkins in March of 1986, and El opens a Dimension X gate briefly and simultaneously in both Hawkins/Nevada in September of 1979 (September of 1952) and Hawkins/Nevada in March of 1986 (March of 1959) during NINA, concurrently...at least one of which may have gone unnoticed, since the Rainbow Room and the surrounding labs seems to have been abandoned entirely after 1979, and HNL as a whole has once again been abandoned after the events of 1984 ("unnoticed" and "abandoned", I say as if the building isn't still being surveilled by Brenner/Owens et. al...I just mean that the building isn't in use by the government at that point in time.)
We're shown the Shadow activating all the way in Russia due to one or multiple of these events. 27 years earlier, in March of 1959, the Mindflayer once again becomes active, per TFS's adjusted dates. Chaos ensues.
At this point, "Henry" starts swapping between sounding like his young self and sounding like his 4.07 Monologuing Adult self again, doing that kind of "I've seen the future" foreshadowing talk with Joyce that his visions did with him:
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Here, he also sounds distinctly like ST3 flayed Billy, specifically in the way of the scene with El in the cabin when "Billy" outlines the Mindflayer's plans for her, her friends, and all of Hawkins while crying.
The rest is, well...history. Whatever fuckery went on, it doesn't seem to have made much of a difference. After all, TFS is a "canon event", meaning it had to end the way it did.
Remember those thoughts I asked you to hold?
TFS being a "canon event" means it had to end with Henry in the lab alongside baby El...thus completing our loop, which starts again with the events of 1979/1952. A 27 year loop. TFS may be indicative of a time loop.
Hence:
Out of place dates from the 1970s start to bleed into the 1950s: - A town like Rachel, Nevada, which wasn't established until 1978, now exists circa 1952-1959 after El opens a gate to Dimension X circa 1979 in Nevada circa 1986 via NINA, which exists...about 40-50 miles from Rachel.
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- An album like Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (November, 1971) or a song like "Chuck E's In Love" (April, 1979) gets referenced circa 1957-1959. - An article about a "younger, more handsome" alien clone of Elvis appears in a 1959 Weekly Watcher paper about the Creel murders, despite Elvis having been 24 at the time...making this an article more likely to have appeared in the '70s or later, likely sometime around Elvis' death in 1977.
2. The Shadow is always depicted as the fully formed Mindflayer circa 1956-1959, despite the shaping event happening in the 4 years between 1979-1983:
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3. Henry has Vecna-type visions, despite being the only vision-giver we know of circa 1957-1959.
4. 6 different guys later in the HNL massacre: 2 with the original baby El, 2 with teen El via NINA, and 2 in an as-of-yet unseen product of NINA's Loop (see: the final scene of TFS).
All this laid out, some questions remain:
Why do Henry's visions show him the genuine, terrifying reality of his future?
Why are these visions generally lacking in coercion?
Why are Vecna chime sounds heard before the major supernatural events that deal with visions, even though we never actually see the clock? (They're heard before Virginia in the attic, before the attack on Mr. Newby, before the Creel murders, and in the basement when Henry monologues at Joyce while viewing the corpses of his family.)
Why don't these chimes play when the Mindflayer alone is present, e.g. when no visions occur? (See: Henry contacting the Mindflayer in the lab)
And we don't really get an answer to any of these. Not an easily spotted outright answer, anyway.
But what's really fascinating, which I mentioned just a second ago and takes me back to the top of this post, back to the "Stardust Spider" and Shadow Man, is the fact that despite occurring concurrently with the possession attempts...none of these visions contain an ultimatum. There's no "If you don't obey me, I'll hurt someone you love", no "I'm showing you what's going to happen if you don't obey me", nothing of the sort.
The closest we get to coercion is the bathroom vision, when Henry fights off a possession attempt in the school bathroom and ends up in a vision regarding Patty. When "Patty" starts to talk to him about his future, about how Henry's going to kill her and so many others, Henry says "you're not Patty...what are you?" Then he gets into a physical brawl with her, which is surprisingly well matched. Vision Patty encourages him during that fight, saying things like "That's it!", "We want the same thing!", and "We can have her!"
Those seem like pretty straightforward "the Mindflayer's encouraging Henry to kill" encouragements, right?
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Yeah, at first glance. However...lets read that back right quick, but with Moral Objectivity Goggles on this time. Henry openly, verbally identifies that Vision Patty is "not her, not Patty", but is, in fact, something else. He does this multiple times before he lunges at "not Patty", and he is subsequently encouraged by not-Patty...who tells him they want the same thing. That's not suspicious at all. The motives here are definitely crystal clear and totally aren't conflicting in any way.
There's the straightforward surface aspect, and then something else piggybacking on it, complicating it. Hold that thought.
Other than that instance, the negative parts of Henry's visions are all just...information. They're showing him what will come to pass...almost like they're motivating him to fight the Mindflayer. Hold onto that thought too, it buddies with the previous one.
Henry's freaking out about Prancer because he's getting close with Patty, and he's worried he'll hurt her?
His vision informs him that he's going to kill more, that he's going to hurt things, that he's going to kill Patty if he stays around her and/or gives into the Mindflayer's desires. And then it happens. All of it. He kills more animals. He hurts things and people, the pets and lab animals, Mr. Newby, and Inmate 58361 being prime examples. He gives in to the Mindflayer's desire to kill and kills Virginia. He does, by the extent of his perception, kill Patty in the accident.
The same goes for his vision in the attic. Henry's up in the attic using his powers to find someone/snoop on them, fearful of opening himself up for a possession attempt?
The vision version of Patty's mother catches Henry and tells him she "wants to tell him a secret" while his body is being puppeted to attack Mr. Newby. The next time the curtain rises to show us the inside of Henry's mind, he's seeing himself as Vecna, strung up on the tentacles and strangling people with them...just like the end of Season 4. Once again, he's seeing the future that will come to pass...should he fail to fight the Mindflayer off.
We can tell it's a vision, not what's physically happening in reality, because: a) Henry's watching himself in the attic from the stage below. b) It's got the messed up red lighting c) They show us reality just moments before, not a tentacle in sight and without Henry on the stage there observing:
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d) The ending of the vision doesn't match with reality:
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At the end of this vision, Henry passes out both in the void and IRL, while the vision version of Henry remains crouching. That is a different guy, entirely separate from IRL/Void Henry. There is at least one other person in the visions who is not a product of the vision itself.
Remember those thoughts from a bit ago that I asked you to hold?
Well. This also happens to be the sequence where we not only get Vision-Patty repeating Henry's own words from just after Prancer's death ("It's not real. It's not real. It's a nightmare") back to him, a phrase IRL Patty has never heard, but we also get:
Visions Patty telling Henry how to fight and evade the possession, as if she knows what she's doing ("It's your dream, remember? Anything is possible").
Vision Patty telling Henry she loves him as the last-ditch effort when his "good dream" memory of the real Patty fails to save him from the possession.
These are both things IRL Patty wouldn't know or think to say, since IRL Patty fully believed that Henry attacked her of his own volition out of malice, and she needed to be shown a drawing of the Mindflayer by Mr. Newby in order to abandon that belief.
IRL Patty's behavior is not the behavior of someone who a) knows the ins and outs of Henry's situation with the Mindflayer, and b) coached him through overcoming a possession attempt a little while earlier. It's just not.
Just like before, we're seeing contradictions and complications between vision-selves and IRL selves, along with a sense of piggybacking within possession attempts, wherein the vision serves as motivation for Henry to fight harder in resistance to the Mindflayer...while the Mindflayer is possessing him.
It's starting to become my favorite thing in the world: A pattern of behavior.
In summary:
Henry's are visions are visions of his future, and they're being shown to him by someone.
They are separate from, but piggybacking on, the Mindflayer's possession attempts.
The purpose of the visions isn't solely to torment Henry or coerce him into doing the Mindflayer's bidding. In fact, the content of the visions seems curated to make Henry fight harder in resistance to the Mindflayer.
So if, for example, Vision Patty ≠ IRL Patty, but she's acting against the Mindflayer's best interest/in support of Henry...then...
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I think my answer to the questions of "who", "when", and "how" should be at least somewhat clear by this point:
Someone...from the future.
Specifically, someone from 1979-1986 who has access to the gates from the Dimension X side, someone with both vision-giving and time-related abilities who's directly connected to the Mindflayer/the Hive Mind, but who has a vested interest in countering the Mindflayer, saving Henry Creel, and trying to change the course of the future.
A traitor. A spy, if you will.
"A spy...from the future?"
[gestures at the Signs] Yeah, you heard me.
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A spy from the future.
So, on that note: The point in this section wherein I ask you to hear me out.
I get the feeling TFS Henry is being told and/or shown what will come to pass in the future by himself...the Mindflayer.
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And you're probably going "How do you figure that one, James? Isn't the Mindflayer a villainous force?"
I mean, yeah. Of course it is. However...
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There are clearly multiple forces at play within the Mindflayer (hive mind!), and TFS shows us that Henry Creel wouldn't choose to be a villain.
Thus I think the visions in TFS are situations where, as in the 4.07 rabbit scene, things look really damning on first view. They play on our empathy using small, visibly-frightened, helpless victims and shocking, violent circumstances to guide us into making the assumption that everything about the situation is inherently malicious.
We're shown this poor little guy, "Henry". He's 14 years old, he clocks in at 5'5", he's skittish/scared of (ha) his own shadow, and he's geeky to the nth degree about comic books (just LOOK at that Captain Midnight salute? What an cute little nerd). He's immediately lovable. He's also, we find out rather abruptly, plagued by horrific visions and murderous fits of possession.
The immediate response is to go "He's being psionically tortured by some sick, sadistic son of a bitch who hungers for nothing but blood and control", just like Nancy and the ST fandom collectively did with Young Henry's rabbit scene...only to be proven wrong about Henry's intentions via TFS.
I mean, does anyone (anyone who's able to read this post, anyway 🤭) look at TFS Henry, filmed Young Henry, or even Orderly Henry and go "Yeah. He totally wanted what he got, and if he had the chance, he definitely wouldn't try to save himself from that fate"?
No.
TFS Shows us that "Henry" was a terrified, traumatized boy who wanted it all to stop. He's kind, brave, and stronger than he seems. We're also shown that he's capable of overcoming the Mindflayer to issue warnings to people he cared about (i.e. telling people to run, or prophesying dangers he'd seen via the visions). He was trying to survive with next to no help while causing as little harm as possible. He was a good kid, and he certainly wasn't evil.
So, all that said...I think that, via the Shadow's hive-mind capabilities, Henry's "fronting", in a manner of speaking, in order to show this version of himself the future. Probably as a warning, probably as motivation to fight the Mindflayer, and all with a nice side-dish of "here's how you fight this thing off so that my current future doesn't become our future" before someone else tapes over the figurative laptop camera.
[coughs, drops this Brenner-Mindflayer collage on the table in front of you, and then scurries away]
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With that said, I'd like to loop all the way back to the top of this post: The "Shadow Man" may be Henry from the future. He's waiting up ahead to show his younger self the true outcome of his choices.
We all know how TFS ends, though. Hence:
[EPIC FAIL COMPILATION]
This brings me to my final "bear with me" point: The matter of the strange double-agent vibes from the UD in every season.
I'm not sure if anyone else outside the unholycule has noticed this, but in every season there's at least one instance of the UD just...offering up information.
"It does?"
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Yup! Let me explain.
On first glance, we look at things like Nancy's vision and even El's vision with Billy in the cabin, and we go "Oh, it's because [insert "the bad guy's cruel/he wants to scare her/his hubris will be his downfall/all serial killers want to be known for their crimes" etc here]"...but maybe that's not the case.
For example: Vecna told Nancy his backstory, and then he immediately went
"Oh hey, so not only am I revealing my identity (Which may help you find out more about me via lab records later on, things like...maybe a list of my abilities, or my weaknesses, like the fact that I have a nut allegry. Allegedly.), but I'm also gonna give you a sneak peek of my apocalypse plans. For free. As a treat. Don't use these to prepare or anything. I'm totally not giving you a head start".
Terrifying, yes. A taunt and a threat on surface view, yes...but also showing his hand. "I want you to tell Eleven everything you see" Why. Why would he want that. He may be confident in his plans, arrogant, even...but he's not that stupid.
I'm serious, though. Check it out in comparison to Henrys visions of the future. The pattern is patterning:
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We can track that back to El's cabin scene with Billy, wherein he tells her she shouldn't have looked for him, warns her that they all can see her, and that they're going to be coming after her...and he cries about it. That's vision Billy. That's someone else who piggybacked into El's mind from Billy's mind. That's not real Billy, just like how Billy in Max's vision wasn't the real Billy. The person giving El that vision warns her. Why on earth would he tell her that they can see her, that they're coming for her? That's sensitive information! It would be smarter to let her think she's safe and use that false sense of security to catch her off guard.
In fact, this pattern patterns so well that I'd like to argue this: Henry's TFS visions, Nancy's vision, and El's vision are all the same type of behavior displayed in NINA's chess scene, just in different contexts.
Henry ("Henry") gives some kind of scary prophetic information ("He and the others are going to attempt to kill you", "I would very much like to show you where I am going", "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"), and then we're left to question if it's a scare tactic, manipulative misinformation, or helpful inside information.
It's not that the Mindflayer or Vecna can't hide things from people (see: "Somewhere he didn't want me to see")...like, say, the fact that the Mindflayer is now able to see El, or that Vecna's planning to open 4 gates with his 4 kills.
It's always this miraculous "Huh! Weird info-dropping behavior from the UD's side. Shouldn't look that gift-horse in the mouth though. It's probably just a writing oversight or a shoehorned exposé, so really there's no need to question it." situation where it's just...information that's offered up with no real explanation.
Some of my favorite examples:
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...and it's all topped off with Max's line:
"He's been telling us his plan this whole time".
That is to say...You're telling me:
The first message from the Upside Down isn't any of the messages that are concretely Will's, but instead it's the one that's a repetitive Henry line...and it's conveyed in a distinctly not-Will style? A message that saves Joyce, something that's definitely not in the UD's best interest given her tenacity in finding her boy...but is definitely coming from the UD nonetheless?
Will, who fell total prey to the Mindflayer in less than 3 days, was not only able to figure out how to defeat the Mindflayer, but was also strong enough to convey it in Morse code? The Mindflayer, who is able to keep secrets (see below), just...let that information slip?
El, who acknowledges that the Mindflayer is more than able to hide things from her, is suddenly released into Billy's memories and allowed to find the source unimpeded?
The Mindflayer, as Billy (Remember: not actually Billy, because Billy can't give visions or invade minds), is telling El that because he's able to see her now, she shouldn't have looked for him? The Mindflayer, which was supposedly building the Fleshflayer to track El down and kill her? Suddenly he's telling her she shouldn't have done the thing that allowed him to find her more easily?
Vecna's giving up all the information about himself and his plans before he's even gotten the 4th gate open, despite him being so secretive about it up until that point?
Henry's visions in TFS are going to scare him into resisting the Mindflayer, making it less likely that he's going to upgrade to killing humans, i.e. the very thing the Mindflayer wants him to do?
None of that makes any damn sense...until we hit this last point:
Orderly Henry is known for giving inside information about "Papa" to El with no clear motive other than getting her to leave the lab.
Now, if you know my page then you know Em's been talking about double meanings in phrasing recently (see: this post about "who"s and "what"s).
So, with that in mind, I'd like you to chew on this:
"He's been telling us his plan this whole time." vs "He's been telling us His plan this whole time."
By which I mean: "He's been telling us some other man's plan this whole time."
[Mike voice] Superspy.
As a parting thought, I made it all into a nice, neat set of collages:
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Not to mention this final, parting bit:
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jaidens · 9 months
Text
But You're Just So Cool Run Your Hands Through Your Hair Absentmindedly Makin' Me Want You ! — [ 🌞 ]
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pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader
warning [s] : admiring from afarrr | this is so short pookies I'm sorry 🫶 I'm so tired after staring school again 😭
a/n [s] : requests are open pooksters!!
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You aren't sure if he knows what he's doing. The smaller grey shirt he wears, his sweatpants hung low on his waist as he kicks a soccer ball around hitting it in goals frequently. You're attempting to play volleyball with your friend, before you get slammed in the head with a soccer ball knocking you over out of surprise. Your friend runs over to you and suddenly, a more familiar face comes into your vision.
A tan, sweaty face is what comes in with his big, brown eyes. “Are you okay?” Daniel asks quickly, on his hands and knees trying to figure out if you're fine or not. “Man, I'm real sorry. I didn't even realize when I kicked it.” You stop his apologies as you let out a laugh and sit up. “No! No, don't worry. I just got knocked off my feet in surprise. You're a-okay.”
You aren't sure if it's the banging going through your head or just you, but Daniel looks even more attractive under the beaming sun as it pours into his brown eyes, turning them into a honey brown. He runs his hand through his hair, the muscles in his arms extending and contracting as he pulls them down. You probably look crazy, as you completely just stare at him.
You knew about Daniel and Ali, always from your best friend, so from what you had known he was off-limits. So, then, you would only admire from afar. He holds his arm up once he stands up, helping you stand up and you get to stare into his eyes. God, isn't he gorgeous? He brushes some dust off of your shirt and smiles. “You should be alright. I'll see you around, yeah?” You nod and he runs back off with his friends.
No matter how short the interaction had been you will always remember the spark that it began in the raging fire of today. Daniel is kissing across your neck, older and wiser now, 20 and beginning his own car dealership. You got your first sponsorship, which ended up with a celebration and a pop of champagne. You definitely weren't mad, but you were only mad that you missed half of it due to your zoning out.
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